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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
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NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


A STUDY 


1 


BY 


WILLIAM  MACKINTIRE  SALTER 


Author  of  First  Steps  in  Philosophy  and 
Anarchy  or  Government?  An  Inquiry  in  Fundamental  Politics 


NEW  YORK 

HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1B17, 

BY 

HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 


TH£  QUINN  & BOOEN  CO.  PRESS 
RAHWAY,  N.  4. 


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L-i'lly 

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TO 

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HELPER  AND  CHEERER 
IN  LONELY  WAYS  AND  STUDIES 


PREFACE 


Criticism  of  Nietzsche  is  rife,  understanding  rare;  this  book 
is  a contribution  to  the  understanding  of  him.  At  the  same 
time  I have  tried  not  merely  to  restate  his  thoughts,  but  to 
re-think  them,  using  more  or  less  my  own  language.  To  enable 
those  interested  to  judge  of  the  correctness  of  the  interpreta- 
tion, the  original  passages  are  referred  to  almost  constantly. 
I limit  myself  to  his  fundamental  points  of  view — noting  only 
in  passing  or  not  at  all  his  thoughts  on  education,  his  later 
views  of  art  and  music,  his  conception  of  woman,  his  inter- 
pretation of  Christianity  and  attitude  to  religion. 

If  I differ  from  some  who  have  written  in  English  upon 
him,  it  is  partly  in  a sense  of  the  difficulty  and  delicacy  of  the 
undertaking.  Few  appear  to  have  thought  it  worth  while  to 
study  Nietzsche — the  treatment  he  commonly  receives  is  (to 
use  an  expressive  German  word,  for  which  I know  no  good 
short  equivalent)  “plump.”  If  I should  be  myself  found — 
by  those  who  know — to  have  simplified  him  at  times  too  much 
and  not  done  justice  to  all  his  nuances,  I should  not  protest 
and  only  hope  that  some  day  some  one  will  do  better. 

The  book  was  in  substance  written  before  the  present  Euro- 
pean War,  and  without  a thought  of  such  a monstrous 
possibility.  It  has  become  the  fashion  to  connect  Nietzsche 
closely  with  it.  One  American  professor  has  even  called 
it — the  German  side  of  it — “Nietzsche  in  Action”  and  an 
early  book  by  a group  of  Oxford  scholars.  Why  We  Are  at 
War,  was  advertised  under  the  heading  “The  Euro-Nietzschean 
(or  Anglo-Nietzschean)  War.”  But  as  matter  of  fact,  the  war 
would  probably  have  arisen  about  as  it  did  and  been  conducted 
about  as  it  has  been,  had  he  never  existed;  and  so  far  as  I 
can  find  him  touching  it  in  any  special  way,  it  is  as  a diagnosti- 
cian of  the  general  conditions  which  appear  to  have  given 
birth  to  it — i.e.,  what  he  calls  “Europe’s  system  of  small  states 
and  small  polities”  (in  contrast  to  a united  Europe  and  a 


V 


vi 


PREFACE 


great  polities,  on  which  he  set  his  heart),  “this  nevrose  na- 
iionale  with  which  Europe  is  sick,”  “this  sickness  and  un- 
reason which  is  the  strongest  force  against  culture  that  exists, 
nationalism,”  for  perpetuating  which  he  holds  Germans 
largely  [perhaps  too  much]  responsible,  and  “which  with  the 
founding  of  the  German  Empire  passed  into  a critical  state” 
{Ecce  Homo,  XII,  x,  §2-,  Twilight  of  the  Idols,  ix,  §39). 
These  last  words  may  perhaps  be  said  to  suggest  some  such 
catastrophe  as  has  now  taken  place,  and  I know  of  no  other 
passage  that  foreshadows  it  more  particularly.  I have  dealt  with 
the  subject  in  a special  article  elsewhere  (“Nietzsche  and  the 
War,”  International  Journal  of  Ethics,  April,  1917).  That  our 
own  country  has  now  been  drawn — forced — into  the  maelstrom 
does  not  alter  its  essential  character. 

As  to  the  final  disposition  of  Nietzsche,  I offer  no  counsels 
now,  and  really,  as  intimated,  counsels — criticism,  such  as  it 
is — abound.  Even  one’s  newspaper  will  usually  put  him  in  his 
place ! Or,  if  one  wishes  a book,  Mr.  Paul  Elmer  More ’s  Nietz- 
sche, “compact  as  David’s  pebble,”  will  serve,  the  Harvard 
Graduates’  Magazine  tells  us,  “to  slay  the  Nietzschean  giant,” 
and  if  we  desire  heavier  blows, — I will  not  say  they  are  more 
skilful — we  may  take  up  Dr.  Paul  Carus’s  Nietzsche  and  Other 
Exponents  of  Individualism.  What,  however,  does  not  seem  to 
abound  is  knowledge  of  the  object  slain,  or  to  be  slain,  i.e.,  some 
elementary  and  measurably  clear  idea  of  who,  or  rather  what, 
Nietzsche  was,  particularly  in  his  underlying  points  of  view. 
And  even  the  present  fresh  attempt  in  this  direction — for  others 
have  preceded  me,  notably  Dr.  Dolson,  Mr.  Ludovici,  Miss  Ham- 
blen, Dr.  Chatter! on-Hill,  Dr.  A.  Wolf,  author  of  the  best  extant 
monograph  on  Nietzsche,  and  Professor  H.  L.  Stewart,  whose 
eye,  however,  is  rather  too  much  on  present  controversial  issues 
for  scientific  purposes — would  be  a work  of  supererogation,  had 
Nietzsche  ever  given  us  an  epitome  of  his  thinking  himself,  or 
were  Professor  Raoul  Richter’s  masterly  Friedrich  Nietzsche, 
sein  Lehen  xind  sein  Werk  translated  into  English,  or  were 
Professor  Henri  Liehtenberger’s  admirable  La  Philosophie  de 
Nietzsche,  which  has  been  translated,  a little  more  extended 
and  thoroughgoing — at  least,  my  book  could  then  only  beg 
consideration  from  Americans  as  a piece  of  “home  industry.” 


PREFACE 


vii 

As  for  criticism — anquestionably  the  thing  of  final  moment  in 
relation  to  every  thinker — if  I can  only  help  to  make  it  in  this 
case  a little  more  intelligent  in  the  future,  I shall  for  the  present 
be  satisfied. 

I owe  thanks  to  Mr.  Thomas  Common  of  Corstorphine,  Scot- 
land— perhaps  the  first  English-speaking  Nietzsche  scholar  of 
our  day,  “first”  in  both  senses  of  the  word — for  help  in  locating 
passages  from  the  Works,  which  I omitted  to  note  the  source 
of  in  first  coming  upon  them  and  could  not  afterward  find, 
or  which  I came  upon  in  other  writers  on  Nietzsche. 
Unfortunately  a few  remain  unlocated — also  some  from  the 
Briefe.  Acknowledgments  are  due  to  the  editors  of  The 
Hibhert  Journal,  The  International  Journal  of  Ethics,  The 
Journal  of  Philosophy,  and  Mind  for  permission  to  use  ma- 
terial which  originally  appeared  as  articles  in  those  periodicals. 

Though  gratefully  recognizing  the  enterprise  of  Dr.  Oscar 
Levy  in  making  possible  an  English  translation  of  the  greater 
part  of  Nietzsche’s  Werke,  I have  used  the  original  German 
editions,  making  my  own  translations  or  versions — save  of 
poetical  passages,  where  I have  been  glad  to  follow,  with  his 
permission,  Mr.  Common.  I cite,  however,  as  far  as  possible, 
by  paragraph  or  section,  the  same  in  the  Werke  (both  octavo 
and  pocket  editions)  and  the  English,  French,  and  other  trans- 
lations; the  posthumous  material,  except  Will  to  Power  and 
Ecce  Homo,  I am  obliged  to  cite  by  volume  and  page  of  the 
German  octavo  edition  (vols.  IX-XIV  inclusive — the  second 
eds.  of  IX  to  XII),  where  alone  it  appears  in  full.  I have  also 
drawn  on  Nietzsche’s  Briefe  (6  vols.).  The  recently  published 
Philologica  (3  vols.),  principally  records  of  his  University 
teaching,  I have  practically  left  unutilized.  The  numerals  (1, 
2,  3,  etc.)  in  the  text  refer  to  the  bottom  of  the  page,  the 
letters  (a,  b,  c,  etc.)  to  notes  at  the  end  of  the  book.  “Werke” 
means  the  octavo  edition,  unless  otherwise  stated. 

W.  M.  S. 

SiLVEs  Lake,  New  Hampshibe, 

Jcne,  1917. 


CONTENTS 


INTRODUCTORY 

CHAPTER  PAGB 

I  Nietzsche’s  Relation  to  His  Time;  His  Life  and  Per- 
sonal Traits 1 

II  Some  Characteristics  of  His  Thinking  ....  10 

III  His  “Megalomania,”  Periods,  Constant  Points  of  View, 

Spiritual  Ancestry 21 

FIRST  PERIOD 

IV  General  View  of  the  World;  the  Function  of  Art  . 34 

V Ultimate  Analysis  of  the  World 45 

VI  Ethical  Views 58 

VII  Social  and  Political  Ideas 72 

VIII  Relations  with  Wagner 78 

SECOND  PERIOD 

IX  General  Marks  of  the  Second  Period 92 

X General  Outlook,  and  Ultimate  View  of  the  World  . 101 

XI  Attitude  to  Morals Ho- 

XII  Social  and  Political  Views  and  Forecasts  . . . 129 

THIRD  PERIOD 

XIII  General  Character  of  the  Period,  and  View  of  the  World  148 

XIV  The  Idea  of  Eternal  Recurrence 163 

XV  Ultimate  Reality  as  Will  to  Power  ....  182 

XVI  Criticism  of  Morality.  Introductory  ....  .^202 

XVII  Criticism  of  Morality  (Cont.).  The  Social  Function  and 

Meaning  of  Morality 210 

XVIII  Criticism  of  Morality  (Cont.).  Have  Evil  and  Cruelty 

No  Place  in  the  World? 226 

XIX  Criticism  of  Morality  (Cont.).  Varying  Types  of 

Morality 246 

XX  Criticism  of  Morality  (Cont.).  Responsibility,  Rights 

AND  Duties,  Justice 261 

XXI  Criticism  of  Morality  { Cont. ) . Bad  Conscience,  a Moral 

Order,  Ought,  Equality 274 

ix 


X 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXII  Criticism  of  Morality  ( Cont. ) . The  “ Altruistic  ” Senti- 
ments   293 

XXIII  Criticism  of  Morality  (Concluded).  Truth  as  an 

Obligation.  Net  Results  of  the  Criticism  . . . 314 

XXIV  Moral  Construction.  The  Moral  Aim  Proposed  by 

Nietzsche  332 

XXV  Moral  Construction  (Cont.).  The  Moral  Aim  and  Will 

TO  Power 354 

XXVI  Moral  Construction  ( Con  t.) . “ Persons,”  or  Great 

Men 380 

XXVII  Moral  Construction  (Concluded) . The  Superman  . . 398 

XXVIII  Social  Criticism.  Analysis  of  Modern  Social  Tendencies  417 
XXIX  Social  Construction.  The  Ideal  Organization  of  Society  425 
XXX  Social  Construction  (Concluded).  Political  Views  and 

Anticipations  455 

Epilogue 474 

Notes  475 

Index  527 


INTRODUCTORY 


CHAPTER  I 

NIETZSCHE’S  RELATION  TO  HIS  TIME;  HIS  LIFE  AND 
PERSONAL  TRAITS 

I 

Once  when  about  to  give  a “Nietzsche”  course  before  a uni- 
versity audience,  those  in  charge  suggested  to  me — a novice 
in  such  situations — that  I should  begin  by  considering  some 
of  the  notable  aspects  or  tendencies  of  our  present  civilization 
which  Nietzsche  expresses,  so  as  to  give  a raison  d’etre  for  the 
course.  It  seemed  to  be  taken  for  granted  that  he  reflected 
the  age  and  was  chiefly  important  as  illustration — perhaps  as 
warning.  I confess  that  I was  somewhat  embarrassed.  For 
what  had  struck  me  as  I had  been  reading  him  was  that  he 
went  more  or  less  counter  to  most  of  the  distinctive  tend- 
encies of  our  time.  My  personal  experience  had  been  of  shock 
after  shock.  Long  before,  and  when  he  was  little  more  than 
a name  to  me,  I had  spoken  of  the  idea  of  getting  “beyond 
good  and  evil”  as  naturally  landing  one  in  a madhouse;  and 
when  I first  read  him  and  ventured  to  lecture  on  him  before 
an  Ethical  Society  (1907),  I could  only  consider  him  as  an 
enemy  who  stood  “strikingly  and  brilliantly  for  what  we  do 
not  believe.” 

As  afterward  I came  to  know  him  more  thoroughly,  I was 
less  willing  to  pass  sweeping  judgment  upon  him,  and  yet  the 
impression  only  deepened  that  here  was  a force  antagonistic  to 
the  dominant  forces  about  us.  At  many  points  he  seemed  more 
mediaeval  than  modern.  He  failed  to  share  the  early  nineteenth 
century  enthusiasm  for  liberty,  and  he  opposed  the  later  social- 
istic tendency.  He  regretted  the  intensification  of  the  nation- 
alist spirit  which  set  in  among  the  various  European  countries 


2 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


after  the  defeat  of  Napoleon,  deeming  it  reactionary — his  ideas 
were  super-national,  European.  He  found  retrogression  in  Ger- 
many, and  belabored  the  Empire  and  the  new  Deutschfhum. 
He  shared,  indeed,  the  modern  scientific  spirit,  but  he  could  not 
long  content  himself  with  a purely  scientific  philosophy  and  de- 
plored the  lapse  of  German  philosophy  into  “criticism”  and 
scientific  specialism.  Of  Darwinism  I might  say  that  he  ac- 
cepted it  and  did  not  accept  it,  whether  as  natural  history  or 
as  morals,  regarding  the  struggle  for  existence,  unhindered  by 
ideal  considerations,  as  favoring,  through  overemphasis  of  the 
social  virtues,  the  survival  of  the  weak  rather  than  the  strong. 
In  the  religious  field,  the  tendency  today  is,  amid  uncertainties 
about  Christian  dogma,  to  emphasize  Christian  morality — 
Nietzsche  questioned  Christian  morality  itself.  In  business 
relations  the  time  is  marked  by  commercialism  and  a certain 
ruthless  egoism  (on  all  sides),  but  Nietzsche,  though  with  an 
occasional  qualification,  had  something  of  the  feeling  of  an 
old-time  aristocrat  for  the  commercial  spirit;  he  lamented  the 
effect  of  our  “American  gold-hunger”  upon  Europe;  he  thought 
that  one  trouble  with  Germany  was  that  there  were  too  many 
traders  there,  paying  producers  the  lowest  and  charging  con- 
sumers the  highest  price ; he  wished  a political  order  that  would 
control  egoisms,  whether  high  or  low.  War,  at  least  till  the 
present  monstrous  one,  has  not  characterized  our  age  more  than 
others,  but  there  have  been  wars  enough — and  Nietzsche  found 
most  of  them  ignoble : trade,  combined  with  narrow  nationalistic 
aims,  inspires  them — the  peoples  having  become  like  traders 
who  lie  in  wait  to  take  advantage  of  one  another ; ^ the  present 
war  he  would  probably  have  found  not  unlike  the  rest.  All 
this,  though  he  held  that  the  warlike  instinct,  in  some  form  or 
other,  belonged  essentially  to  human  nature  as  to  all  advancing 
life,  and  that  in  all  probability  war  in  the  literal  sense  would 
have  worthy  occasion  in  the  future. 

The  fact  is  that  Nietzsche  was  a markedly  individual 
thinker  and  lived  to  an  extraordinary  extent  from  within. 
While  it  would  be  venturesome  to  say  that  there  is  anything 
new  in  him  and  a subtle  chemistry  might  perhaps  trace  every 
thought  or  impulse  of  his  to  some  external  source,  the  sources 
’ Thus  spake  Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  § 21. 


RELATION  TO  HIS  TIME 


3 


lay  to  a relatively  slight  extent  in  his  immediate  environment.® 
Unquestionably  he  was  influenced  by  Schopenhauer  and  by 
Wagner;  but  it  was  not  long  before  he  was  critical  toward 
them  both.  Late  in  life  he  remarked  that  to  be  a philosopher 
one  must  be  capable  of  great  admirations,  but  must  also  have 
a force  of  opposition — and  he  thought  that  he  had  stood  the 
tests,  as  he  had  allowed  himself  to  be  alienated  from  his  prin- 
cipal concern,  neither  by  the  great  political  movement  of  Ger- 
many, nor  by  the  artistic  movement  of  Wagner,  nor  by  the 
philosophy  of  Schopenhauer,  though  his  experiences  had  been 
hard  and  at  times  he  was  ill.^'’  In  another  retrospection  he 
says  that  while  like  Wagner  he  was  a child  of  his  time,  hence 
a decadent,  he  had  known  how  to  defend  himself  against  the 
fatality.^  So  slight  did  he  feel  his  contact  with  the  time  to  be, 
so  imperceptible  was  his  influence,  so  profound  his  isolation, 
particularly  in  his  later  years,  that  he  spoke  of  himself  as  an 
“accident”  among  Germans,®  and  said  with  a touch  of  humor, 
“My  time  is  not  yet,  some  are  posthumously  born.”^  I cannot 
make  out  that  his  influence  is  appreciable  now — at  least  in 
English-speaking  countries;  even  in  Germany,  where  for  a time 
he  had  a certain  vogue,  his  counsels  and  ideas  have  been  far 
more  disregarded  than  followed — and  though  in  the  present 
war  some  university-bred  soldiers  may  be  inspired  by  his  praise 
of  the  warrior-spirit  and  the  manly  virtues,  men  from  Oxford 
might  be  similarly  inspired,  if  they  but  knew  him.*^  He  has, 
indeed,  given  a phrase  and  perhaps  an  idea  or  two  to  Mr. 
Bernard  Shaw,  a few  scattering  scholars  have  got  track  of  him  ® 
(I  know  of  but  two  or  three  in  America),  the  great  newspaper- 
and  magazine-writing  and  reading  world  has  picked  up  a few 
of  his  phrases,  which  it  does  not  understand,  like  “superman,” 
“blond  beast,”  “will  to  power,”  “beyond  good  and  evil,” 
“transvaluation  of  values” — but  influence  is  another  matter. 
He  has  changed  nothing,  whether  in  thought  or  public  policy, 
has  neither  lifted  men  up  nor  lowered  them,  though  mistaken 
images  of  him  may  have  had  occasionally  the  latter  effect,  the 
truth  being  simply  that  he  is  out  of  most  men’s  ken. 

a Letters  here  and  elsewhere  refer  to  notes  to  be  found  at  end  of  book. 

= Werke,  XIV,  347-8,  § 202. 

® Preface  to  “ The  Case  of  Wagner.” 

* “Nietzsche  contra  Wagner,”  § 7,  Ecce  Homo,  III,  § 1. 


4 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


But  because  a man,  however  much  talked  about,  has  had 
slight  real  influence,  having  gone  mostly'  counter  to  the  currents 
of  his  time,  it  does  not  follow  that  he  is  not  important,  even 
vastly  so,  and  that  the  future  will  not  take  large  account  of 
him.  I do  not  wish  to  prophesy,  but  I have  a suspicion  that 
sometime — perhaps  at  no  very  distant  date — writers  on  serious 
themes  will  be  more  or  less  classified  according  as  they  know 
him  or  not ; that  we  shall  be  speaking  of  a pre-Nietzschean  and 
a post-Nietzsehean  period  in  philosophical,  and  particularly  in 
ethical  and  social,  analysis  and  speculation — and  that  those  who 
have  not  made  their  reckoning  with  him  will  be  as  hopelessly 
out  of  date  as  those  who  have  failed  similarly  with  Kant.  Al- 
ready I am  conscious  for  my  own  part  of  a certain  antiquated 
air  in  much  of  our  contemporary  discussion — it  is  unaware  of 
the  new  and  deep  problems  which  Nietzsche  raises;  and  the 
references  made  to  him  (for  almost  every  writer  seems  to  feel 
that  he  must  refer  to  him)  only  show  how  superficial  the 
acquaintance  with  him  ordinarily  is.  Far  am  I from  asserting 
that  we  shall  follow  him ; I simply  mean  that  we  shall  know  him, 
ponder  over  him,  perchance  grapple  with  him — and  whether  he 
masters  us  or  we  him,  the  strength  of  the  struggle  and  the 
illumination  born  of  it  will  become  part  of  our  better  intel- 
lectual selves. 

II 

Although  this  book  is  no  biography  of  Nietzsche  (save  in  the 
spiritual  sense),  it  may  be  well  at  the  outset  to  state  the  main 
facts  of  his  life,  and  also  to  mention  some  of  the  striking  points 
in  his  personal  character. 

Friedrich  Wilhelm  Nietzsche  was  born  on  October  15,  1844, 
in  Roeken,  a small  Prussian  village,  where  his  father  was  a 
Protestant  pastor.  His  mother  was  a pastor’s  daughter — and 
back  of  his  father  on  both  sides  there  was  a current  of  theological 
blood.  From  his  fourteenth  to  his  twentieth  year  he  was  at 
Schulpforta,  one  of  the  strictest  and  best  of  German  preparatory 
schools.  At  twenty  he  went  to  the  University  at  Bonn,  matricu- 
lating as  a student  of  theology  and  philosophy.  A year  later 
he  followed  his  “great”  teacher,  Ritschl,  to  Leipzig,  having 
meanwhile  concentrated  upon  philosophical  and  philological 


LIFE 


5 


study,  and  producing  during  his  two  years  there  learned  trea- 
tises which  were  published  in  the  Rheinisches  Museum  (“Zur 
Gesehichte  der  Theognidischen  Spruchsammlung,  ” Vol.  XXII; 
“De  Laertii  Diogenis  fontibus,”  Vols.  XXIII,  XXIV).  While 
in  Leipzig  he  read  Schopenhauer,  and  met  Wagner.  His  uni- 
versity work  was  broken  only  by  a period  of  military  service. 
Before  taking  the  doctor’s  degree,  he  was  called  to  the  chair  of 
classical  philology  in  the  University  at  Basel,  his  philological 
work  having  attracted  attention  and  Ritschl  saying  that  he 
could  do  what  he  would.  He  was  now  twenty-four  (1868).  The 
Leipzig  faculty  forthwith  gave  him  the  doctor’s  degree  without 
examination.  After  two  years  he  became  Professor  ordinarius. 
He  also  undertook  work  in  the  Basel  Padagogium  (a  kind  of 
higher  gymnasium).  His  acquaintance  with  Wagner  now 
ripened  into  an  intimate  friendship — ^Wagner  living  not  far 
away  on  Lake  Lucerne.  In  1870,  when  the  Franco-Prussian 
war  broke  out,  he  could  not  serve  his  country  as  soldier,  since 
he  had  become  naturalized  in  Switzerland,  but  he  entered  the 
ambulance-service.  Dysentery  and  diphtheria,  however,  at- 
tacked him — and  the  after-effects  lingered  long,  if  not  through- 
out his  life.  In  1876,  the  year  also  of  the  Bayreuth  opening, 
and  when  differences  which  had  been  developing  with  Wagner 
culminated,  he  was  obliged  on  account  of  ill-health  to  relinquish 
his  work  at  the  Padagogium  and  in  the  spring  of  1879  he  re- 
signed his  professorship  in  the  University  as  well.  He  was  at 
this  time  thirty-five,  but  to  his  sister  who  saw  him  not  long 
after,  he  seemed  old  and  broken,  “ ein  gebrochener,  milder, 
gealteter  Mann.”  His  outer  movements  were  thereafter  largely 
determined  by  considerations  of  health.  He  spent  the  summers 
usually  in  the  Upper  Engadine,  and  winters  on  the  French  or 
Italian  Riviera.  He  lasted  nearly  ten  years,  when  he  was  over- 
taken by  a stroke  of  paralysis  which  affected  the  brain  (late 
December,  1888,  or  early  January,  1889,  in  Turin).  His  nat- 
urally vigorous  bodily  frame  withstood  actual  death  till  August 
25,  1900. 

Owing  to  current  misapprehension  a special  word  should  be 
said  as  to  his  insanity.  The  popular  impression  among  us  is 
perhaps  largely  traceable  to  a widely  read  book  by  a semi- 
scientific  writer.  Dr.  Max  Nordau,  entitled  (in  the  English 


6 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


translation,  which  appeared  twenty  or  more  years  ago)  De- 
generation; in  a chapter  devoted  to  Nietzsche  it  was  stated  that 
his  works  had  been  written  between  periods  of  residence  in  a 
madhouse.  The  legend  dies  hard  and  lingers  on  faintly  in  the 
latest  writers  who  have  not  made  any  real  study  of  the  case. 
The  fact  is,  that  the  insanity  came,  as  just  indicated,  suddenly, 
almost  without  warning,  for  his  latest  writings  are  some  of  his 
most  lucid — and  that  nothing  was  produced  by  him  afterward, 
save  a few  incoherent  notes  and  letters,  written  or  scrawled  in 
the  first  days  of  his  dementia.  That  there  are  any  anticipations 
of  the  catastrophe  (i.e.,  signs  of  incipient  dementia)  in  his 
books  is  at  best  a subjective  opinion — indeed  it  is  a view  which 
tends  to  be  abandoned  more  and  more,*  Highly  wrought  Nietz- 
sche often  was,  particularly  in  his  latest  writings;  he  said  ex- 
travagant things  and  uttered  violent  judgments.  So  did  Car- 
lyle; so  have  many  earnest,  lonely  men,  struggling  unequally 
with  their  time ; but  insanity  is  another  matter. 

The  causes  of  his  collapse  were  probably  manifold.  A few 
circumstances  may  be  mentioned  which  may  have  co-operated 
to  produce  the  result.  Nietzsche  himself  mentions  a decadent 
inheritance  which  he  had  from  his  father,  though  he  thought  it 
counterbalanced  by  a robust  one  from  his  mother.®  While  serv- 
ing his  time  in  the  Prussian  artillery,  he  suffered  a grave  rup- 
ture of  muscles  of  the  chest  in  mounting  a restive  horse,  and 
for  a time  his  life  was  in  danger.  During  the  Franco-Prussian 
war,  the  illnesses  already  mentioned  were  aggravated  by  strong 
medicines  that  seem  to  have  permanently  deranged  his  digestion ; 
in  any  ease,  sick-headaches  of  an  intense  and  often  prolonged 
character  became  frequent.  He  had  serious  eye-troubles  (he 
was  always  nearsighted),  and  became  almost  blind  late  in  life. 
Strain  of  this  and  every  kind  produced  insomnia — and  this  in 
turn  led  to  the  use  of  drugs,  and  of  stronger  and  stronger  ones. 
All  the  time  he  was  leading  the  intensest  intellectual  life. 
Whether  such  a combination  of  causes  was  sufficient  to  produce 
the  result,  medical  experts  must  judge.  Nietzsche  himself  once 
remarked,  “We  all  die  too  young  from  a thousand  mistakes  and 
ignorances  as  to  how  to  act.”  ® 

' Ecce  Homo,  I,  §§  1,  2. 


« Werlce,  XII,  117,  § 229. 


PERSONAL  TRAITS 


7 


lU 

By  nature  he  was  of  vigorous  constitution.  He  had  been 
fond  as  a boy  of  swimming  and  skating,  and  at  the  University, 
until  his  disablement,  was  an  active  horseback  rider.  At  Bonn 
he  appeared  a ‘ ‘ picture  of  health  and  strength,  broad-shouldered, 
brown,  with  rather  thick  fair  hair,  and  of  exactly  the  same 
height  as  Goethe.”®  He  had  strong  musical  tastes  and  some 
musical  ability.  A tender  conscience  seems  to  have  belonged  to 
him  from  his  earliest  years.  When  a mere  child,  a missionary 
visited  his  father’s  parish  and  at  a meeting  plead  movingly  for 
his  cause ; the  little  Fritz  responded  with  an  offering  of  his  tin 
soldiers — and  afterwards,  walking  home  with  his  sister,  he  mur- 
mured, “ Perhaps  I ought  to  have  given  my  cavalry!’’  He 
was  clean  both  in  person  and  in  thought.  At  school  the  boys 
called  him  “the  little  parson,”  instinctively  repressing  coarse 
language  in  his  presence.  He  had  a taste  of  dissipation  at  the 
University,  but  soon  sickened  of  it.  The  delights  of  drinking 
and  duelling  palled  on  him,  and  openly  expressed  dissatisfac- 
tion with  the  “beer-materialism”  of  his  fellow-students,  and 
strained  relations  ensuing,  appear  to  have  had  something  to  do 
with  his  leaving  Bonn  for  Leipzig.  Once  he  allowed  himself  to 
be  taken  to  a house  of  questionable  character,  but  became 
speechless  before  what  he  saw  there.  For  a moment  he  turned 
to  the  piano — and  then  left.**  Professor  Deussen,  who  knew  him 
from  Schulpforta  days  on,  says  of  him,  “mulierem  nunquam 
attigit”;  and  though  this  may  be  too  absolute  a claim,*  it  shows 
the  impression  he  left  on  one  of  his  most  intimate  friends.  He 
was  never  married.^'  He  had,  however,  intimate  relations  with 
gifted  women,  like  Frau  Cosima  Wagner  and  Malwida  von 
Meysenbug,  and  his  family  affections  were  strong  and  tender; 
so  unwilling  was  he  to  give  his  mother  needless  pain  that  he 
strove  to  keep  his  later  writings  from  her.  He  had  at  bottom 
a sympathetic  nature.  If  he  warned  against  pity,  it  was  not 
from  any  instinctive  lack  of  it.  In  personal  intercourse  he 
showed  marked  politeness  and,  some  say,  an  almost  feminine 
mildness.  All  his  life  he  was  practically  a poor  man,  his  yearly 
income  never  exceeding  a thousand  dollars.  He  called  it  his 
happiness  that  he  owned  no  house,  saying,  “Who  possesses  is 


8 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


possessed;”  liked  to  wait  on  himself;  despised  the  dinners  of 
the  rich ; loved  solitude,  aside  from  a few  friends — and  the 
common  people.  Some  of  the  latter  class,  in  the  later  days  of 
his  illness  and  comparative  emaciation  in  Genoa,  spoke  endear- 
ingly of  him  as  “il  santo”  or  “il  piccolo  santo.”  He  had 
remarkable  strength  of  will.  Once,  when  the  story  of  Mutius 
Scaevola  was  being  discussed  among  his  schoolmates,  he  lighted 
a number  of  matches  on  his  hand  and  held  out  his  arm  without 
wincing,  to  prove  that  one  could  be  superior  to  pain.  After 
reading  Schopenhauer,  he  practised  bodily  penance  for  a short 
time.  Later  on  he  asserted  himself  against  the  illnesses  that 
befell  him  in  extraordinary  fashion,  and  when  he  became  men- 
tally and  spiritually  disillusioned,  he  was  able  to  wrest  strength 
from  his  very  deprivations.  In  general,  there  was  an  unusual 
firmness  in  his  moral  texture.  He  despised  meanness,  untruth- 
fulness, cowardice;  he  liked  straight  speaking  and  straight 
thinking.  He  did  not  have  one  philosophy  for  the  closet  and 
another  for  life,  as  Schopenhauer  more  or  less  had,  but  his 
thoughts  were  motives,  rules  of  conduct.  In  his  thinking  itself 
we  seem  to  catch  the  pulse-beats  of  his  virile  will.  Professor 
Riehl  calls  him  “perhaps  the  most  masculine  character  among 
our  philosophers.”^  He  was  not  without  a certain  nobleness, 
too.  He  once  said,  “a  sufferer  has  no  right  to  pessimism,”  i.e., 
to  build  a general  view  on  a personal  experience.  Nor  was  he 
dogmatic,  overbearing — in  spirit  at  least;  I shall  speak  of  this 
point  later.  He  owned  that  he  contradicted  himself  more  or 
less.  “This  thinker  [he  evidently  alludes  to  himself] 
needs  no  one  to  confute  him;  he  suffices  to  that  end  him- 
self. ’ ’ ® Nor  did  he  wish  to  be  kept  from  following  his  own 
path  by  friendly  defense  or  adulation.  “The  man  of  knowl- 
edge,” he  said,  “must  be  able  not  only  to  love  his  enemies,  but 
to  hate  his  friends.”®  In  short,  there  was  a kind  of  unworldli- 
ness about  him,  not  in  the  ordinary,  but  in  a lofty  sense.  I 
discover  few  traces  of  vanity  in  him  (at  least  before  the  last 
year  or  two  of  his  life),  though  not  a little  pride;  he  cared  little 
for  reputation,  save  among  a few;  and  he  was  not  ungenerous, 

’ Alois  Riehl,  Friedrich  Nietzsche,  der  Kiinstler  und  der  Denker  (4th 
ed. ) , p.  161. 

“ Mixed  Opinions  and  Sayings,  § 193. 

“ Thus  spake  Zarathustra,  I,  xxii,  § 3. 


PERSONAL  TRAITS 


9 


saying  toward  the  close  of  his  life  that  he  had  difSculty  in  citing 
one  case  of  literary  ill-will,  though  he  had  been  overwhelmed 
by  ignorance.^“  I do  not  mean  that  his  language  is  not  severe 
at  times,  unwarrantably  so;  but  he  tells  us  almost  pathetically 
in  one  place  that  we  must  not  underscore  these  passages  and 
that  the  severity  and  presumption  come  partly  from  his  isolation. 
A lonely  thinker,  who  finds  no  sympathy  or  echo  for  his  ideas, 
involuntarily,  he  says,  raises  his  pitch,  and  falls  easily  into  irri- 
tated speech.'^ 

Perhaps  I should  add  that  the  aphoristic  form  of  much  of 
his  later  writing  has  partly  a physical  explanation.^  He  was  able 
to  write  only  at  intervals,  and  would  put  down  his  thoughts  at 
auspicious  moments,  oftenest  when  he  was  out  walking  or  climb- 
ing ; one  year  he  had,  he  tells  us,  two  hundred  sick  days.™  Such 
ill  fortune  was  extreme — afterward  he  fared  better — but  he  was 
more  or  less  incapacitated  every  year.  He  undoubtedly  made 
a virtue  of  necessity  and  brought  his  aphoristic  style  of  writing 
to  a high  degree  of  perfection — sometimes  he  almost  seems  to 
make  it  his  ideal;  it  is  noticeable,  however,  that  in  Genealogy 
of  Morals,  in  The  Antichristian,  and  in  Ecce  Homo  he  writes 
almost  as  connectedly  as  in  his  first  treatises,  and  he  appears 
to  have  projected  Will  to  Power  as  a systematic  work.  The 
aphorisms  are  often  extremely  pregnant.  Professor  Richter  re- 
marking that  Nietzsche  can  in  this  way  give  more  to  the  reader 
in  minutes  than  systematic  writers  in  hours.” 

Ecco  Homo,  IV,  § 1. 

Raoul  Richter,  Friedrich  Nietzsche,  sein  Lelen  und  sein  Werk  (2d 
ed. ),  p.  185. 


CHAPTER  II 


SOME  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  HIS  THINKING 

I 

Nietzsche’s  life  was  practically  one  of  thought.  Of  outer 
events,  “experiences”  in  the  ordinary  sense,  there  were  few: 
“we  have  not  our  heart  there,”  he  confesses,  “and  not  even 
our  ear.  ’ ’ ^ But  to  the  great  problems  of  life  he  stood  in  a very 
personal  relation.  He  philosophized  not  primarily  for  others’ 
sake,  but  for  his  own,  from  a sense  of  intimate  need.  Body  and 
mind  co-operated.  ‘ ‘ I have  written  all  my  books  with  my  whole 
body  and  life;  I do  not  know  what  purely  spiritual  problems 
are.”  “May  I say  it?  all  truths  are  for  me  bloody  truths — let 
one  look  at  my  previous  writings.”  “These  things  you  know  as 
thoughts,  but  your  thoughts  are  not  your  experiences,  but  the 
echo  of  the  experiences  of  others:  as  when  your  room  shakes 
from  a wagon  passing  by.  But  I sit  in  the  wagon,  and  often  I 
am  the  wagon  itself.  ’ ’ ^ These  were  private  memoranda  that  have 
been  published  since  his  death,  but  an  attentive  reader  of  books 
he  published  often  has  the  sense  of  their  truth  borne  in  upon 
him.  As  he  puts  it  objectively  in  Joyful  Science,  it  makes  all 
the  difference  in  the  world  whether  a thinker  is  personally  re- 
lated to  his  problems,  so  that  his  fate  is  bound  up  in  them,  or  is 
“impersonal,”  touching  them  only  with  the  feelers  of  cool,  curi- 
ous thought.^  So  earnest  is  he,  so  much  does  this  make  a sort 
of  medium  through  which  he  sees  the  world,  that  he  once  set 
down  Dan  Quixote  as  a harmful  book,  thinking  that  the  parody- 
ing of  the  novels  of  chivalry  which  one  finds  there  becomes  in 
effect  irony  against  higher  strivings  in  general — Cervantes,  he 
says,  who  might  have  fought  the  Inquisition,  chose  rather  to 
make  its  victims,  heretics  and  idealists  of  all  sorts,  laughable, 
and  belongs  so  far  to  the  decadence  of  Spanish  culture,^  Some 

' Preface,  § 1,  to  Genealogy  of  Morals. 

* Werke,  XI,  382,  §§  590-2;  cf.  XIV,  361,  § 231. 

^Joyful  Science,  § 345. 

‘ Werke,  X,  481,  § 1;  XI,  106-7,  § 332. 

10 


SOME  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  HIS  THINKING  11 


have  even  been  led  to  question  whether  Nietzsche  was  capable  of 
humor.®  But  there  is  no  need  to  go  to  this  length.  Not  only- 
does  he  give  a high  place  to  laughter  in  his  books,  not  only  are 
there  special  instances  of  humorous  description  to  be  found 
there,  but  colleagues  of  his  at  Basel,  like  Burckhardt  and  Over- 
beck, testify  to  his  infectious  laughter  at  their  frequent 
meeting  place  Baumannshbhle”) , Nietzsche  himself  owning 
that  he  had  much  to  make  up  for,  since  he  had  laughed  so  little 
as  child  and  boy.®  For  all  this  the  undercurrent  of  his  life  was 
unquestionably  serious,  and  he  cannot  be  placed  among  writers 
who  give  us  much  surface  cheer.  Occasionally  he  indulges  in 
pleasantries  to  the  very  end  of  relief  from  graver  work — such, 
for  instance,  as  those  which  make  a part  of  “The  Case  of 
Wagner”  (see  the  preface  to  this  pamphlet,  where  it  is  also 
said  that  the  subject  itself  is  not  one  to  make  light  about),  and 
those  in  Twilight  of  the  Idols.  In  the  preface  to  the  latter 
he  remarks  that  when  one  has  a great  task  like  that  of  a “turn- 
ing round  {TJmxoerthung)  of  all  values,”  one  must  shake  off  at 
times  the  all  too  hea"vy  weight  of  seriousness  it  brings. 

As  his  motives  in  philosophizing  were  personal,  so  were  the 
results  he  attained — some  of  them  at  least:  they  were  for  him, 
helped  him  to  live,  whether  they  were  valuable  for  others  or 
not.  Referring  to  certain  of  his  writings,  he  calls  them  his 
“recipe  and  self-prepared  medicine  against  life-weariness.”® 
In  a posthumous  fragment  (perhaps  from  a preface  for  a pos- 
sible book),  he  says,  “Here  a philosophy — one  of  my  philoso- 
phies— comes  to  expression,  which  has  no  wish  to  be  called 
‘love  of  wisdom,’  but  begs,  perhaps  from  pride,  for  a more 
modest  name : a repulsive  name  indeed,  which  may  for  its  part 
contribute  to  making  it  remain  what  it  wishes  to  be : a philosophy 
for  myself — with  the  motto : satis  sunt  mihi  pauci,  satis  est  unus, 
satis  est  nullus.”’’  Sometimes  he  distrusts  writing  for  the  gen- 
eral, saying  that  the  thinker  may  make  himself  clearer  in  this 
way,  but  is  liable  to  become  flatter  also,  not  expressing  his  most 
intimate  and  best  self — he  confesses  that  he  is  shocked  now  and 
then  to  see  how  little  of  his  own  inmost  self  is  more  than  hinted 

“ Cf.  R.  M.  Meyer,  Nietzsche,  pp.  135-6, 

® Nietzsche’s  Brief e,  II,  666. 

’’■Werke,  XIV,  352,  § 214. 


12 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


at  in  his  writings.®  He  admires  Schopenhauer  for  having 
written  for  himself;  for  no  one,  he  says,  wishes  to  be  deceived, 
least  of  all  a philosopher  who  takes  as  his  law.  Deceive  no  one, 
not  even  thyself.  He  comes  to  say  at  last,  “I  take  readers  into 
account  no  longer : how  could  I write  for  readers  ? . . . But  I note 
myself  down,  for  myself.”®  “Mihi  ipsi  scripsi — so  it  is;  and 
in  this  way  shall  each  one  do  his  best  for  himself  according  to 
his  kind.”^®  At  least  this  became  an  ideal,  for  he  owns  that 
sometimes  he  has  hardly  the  courage  for  his  own  thoughts  (“I 
have  only  rarely  the  courage  for  what  I really  know”).^"^ 

If  I may  give  in  a sentence  what  seems  to  me  the  inmost 
psychology  and  driving  force  of  his  thinking,  it  was  like  this : — 
Being  by  nature  and  by  force  of  early  training  reverent,  finding, 
however,  his  religious  faith  undermined  by  science  and  critical 
reflection,  his  problem  came  to  be  how,  consistently  with  science 
and  the  stern  facts  of  life  and  the  world,  the  old  instincts  of 
reverence  might  still  have  measurable  satisfaction,  and  life 
again  be  lit  up  with  a sense  of  transcendent  things.  He  was  at 
bottom  a religious  philosopher — this,  though  the  outcome  of  his 
thinking  is  not  what  would  ordinarily  be  called  religious.  There 
is  much  irony  in  him,  much  contempt,  but  it  is  because  he  has 
an  ideal ; and  his  final  problem  is  how  some  kind  of  a practical 
approximation  to  the  ideal  may  be  made.  He  himself  says  that 
one  who  despises  is  ever  one  who  has  not  forgotten  how  to 
revere.^® 

II 

The  question  is  sometimes  raised  whether  Nietzsche  was  a 
philosopher  at  all.  Some  deny  it,  urging  that  he  left  no  sys- 
tematic treatises  behind  him ; they  admit  that  he  may  have  been 
a poet,  or  a master  of  style  (“stylist,”  to  use  a barbarous  word 
imported  from  the  German),  or  a prophet — but  he  was  not  a 
thinker.^®  But  because  a man  does  not  write  systematically,  or 

“ Briefe,  III,  277. 

» Werke,  XIV,  .360,  § 288. 

^“Briefe,  II,  567. 

” /6id.,  Ill,  274. 

” Genealogy  of  Morals,  III,  § 25.  Cf.  Georges  Chatterton-Hill’s  char- 
acterization, “Always  an  essentially  religious  nature”  (The  Philosophy  of 
Nietzsche;  an  Exposition  and  an  Appreciation,  pp.  14,  114). 

So,  among  many,  Paul  Carus,  Nietzsche  and  Other  Exponents  of 
Individualism,  p.  101. 


SOME  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  HIS  THINKING  13 


even  does  not  care  to,  it  does  not  follow  that  he  has  not  deep- 
going, more  or  less  reasoned  thoughts,  and  that  these  thoughts 
do  not  hang  together.  Nietzsche  reflected  on  flrst  principles  in 
almost  every  department  of  human  interest  (except  perhaps 
mathematics).  Though  his  prime  interest  is  man  and  morals, 
he  knows  that  these  subjects  cannot  be  separated  from  broader 
and  more  ultimate  ones,  and  we  have  his  ideas  on  metaphysics 
and  the  general  constitution  of  the  world.  Poets,  “stylists,” 
prophets  do  not  commonly  lead  others  to  write  about  their 
theory  of  knowledge,'^  do  not  frequently  deal,  even  in  aphorisms, 
with  morality  as  a problem,  with  cause  and  effect,  with  flrst 
and  last  things.  Undoubtedly  Nietzsche  appears  inconsistent  at 
times,  perhaps  is  really  so.  Not  only  does  he  express  strongly 
what  he  thinks  at  a given  time  and  leaves  it  to  us  to  reconcile  it 
with  what  he  says  at  other  times,  not  only  does  he  need  for 
interpreter  some  one  with  a literary  as  well  as  scientiflc  sense, 
but  his  views  actually  differ  more  or  less  from  time  to  time, 
and  even  at  the  same  time — and  Professor  Hoffding  is  not  quite 
without  justiflcation  in  suggesting  that  they  might  more  prop- 
erly have  been  put  in  the  form  of  a drama  or  dialogue.^^  Nietz- 
sche himself,  in  speaking  of  his  “philosophy,”  qualifles  and  says 
“philosophies,”  as  we  have  just  seen.  And  yet  there  is  co- 
herence to  a certain  extent  in  each  period  of  his  life,  and  at  last 
there  is  so  much  that  we  might  almost  speak  of  a system.  There 
is  even  a certain  method  in  his  changes — one  might  say,  using 
Hegelian  language,  that  there  is  first  an  affirmation,  then  a 
negation,  and  finally  an  affirmation  which  takes  up  the  negation 
into  itself.  Indeed,  the  more  closely  I have  attended  to  his 
mental  history,  the  more  I have  become  aware  of  continuing  and 
constant  points  of  view  throughout — so  much  so  that  I fear  I 
may  be  found  to  repeat  myself  unduly,  taking  him  up  period 
by  period  as  I do.^®  The  testimony  of  others  may  be  interesting 
in  this  connection.  Professor  Rene  Berthelot  remarks  in  the 
Grande  Encyclopedic,  though  with  particular  to  the  works  of 
the  last  period,  “They  are  the  expression  of  a perfectly  coherent 
doctrine,  although  Nietzsche  has  never  made  a systematic  ex- 

“ Harald  Hoffding,  Moderne  Philosophen,  pp.  141-2. 

” I heard  of  a German  book  on  Nietzsche  not  long  ago — I cannot  now 
remember  its  title — which  disregarded  the  division  of  his  life  into  periods 
altogether. 


14 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


position  of  it.”^®  Dr.  Richard  Beyer  says,  “His  doctrine  does 
not  lack  system  but  systematic  presentation,  which  however  also 
Socrates,  a Leibnitz  did  not  leave  behind  them.  ’ ’ Professor 

Vaihinger,  who  writes  professedly  not  as  a disciple,  much  less 
apostle  of  Nietzsche,  but  simply  as  an  historian  of  philosophy, 
describes  his  book  by  saying,  “I  have  brought  the  seemingly 
disorderly  scattered  fragments,  the  disjecta  membra,  into  a 
strictly  consistent  system.  Nietzsche  himself,  though  ordi- 
narily too  much  in  his  struggles  to  grasp  them  as  a whole  and 
see  their  final  import,  occasionally  had  a clear  moment  and 
looked  as  from  a height  upon  the  sum-total  of  his  work.  Writing 
from  Turin  to  Brandes,  4th  May,  1888,  to  the  effect  that  his 
weeks  there  had  turned  out  “better  than  any  for  years,  above 
all  more  philosophic,”  he  adds,  “Almost  every  day  for  one 
or  two  hours  I have  reached  such  a point  of  energy  that  I could 
see  as  from  an  eminence  my  total  conception — the  immense 
variety  of  problems  lying  spread  out  before  me  in  relief  and 
clear  outline.  For  this  a maximum  of  force  is  needed,  which 
I had  hardly  hoped  for.  Everything  hangs  together,  for  years 
everything  has  been  going  in  the  right  direction ; one  builds  his 
philosophy  like  a beaver — is  necessary  and  does  not  know  it.”  ’® 
He  once  expressed  a wish  that  some  one  should  make  a kind  of 
resume  of  the  results  of  his  thinking,®®  evidently  with  the  notion 
that  there  were  results  which  might  be  put  in  orderly  fashion. 
Professor  Richter  describes  his  own  book — the  most  valuable  one 
on  the  philosophical  side  which  has  been  written  on  Nietzsche — 
as  a modest  attempt  to  fulfil  that  wish.®’  But  why  argue  or 
quote?  Any  one  who  cares  to  read  on  in  these  pages  will  be 
able  to  judge  for  himself  whether  and  how  far  Nietzsche  was 
a philosopher — no  one  imagines  that  he  was  one  in  the  sense 
that  Kant  and  Aristotle  were. 

Ill 

I have  spoken  of  Nietzsche’s  changes.  He  is  strongly  con- 
trasted in  this  respect  with  his  master  Schopenhauer,  whose 

” Art.,  “ Nietzsche.” 

” Nietzsches  Versuch  einer  Vtnwerthung  aller  Werthe,  pp.  34-5. 

**  Hans  Vaihinger,  Nietzsche  als  Philosoph,  pp.  4-8. 

Briefe,  II,  305-6. 

=»  Ibid.,  IV,  170. 

Preface  to  tlie  second  edition. 


SOME  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  HIS  THINKING  15 

views  crystallized  when  he  was  still  young  and  varied  thereafter 
in  no  material  point.  Only  one  who  changes,  he  tells  us, 
is  kindred  to  him.  ‘ ‘ One  must  be  willing  to  pass  away,  in  order 
to  be  able  to  rise  again.  ” ^ It  is  easy  to  misunderstand  the 
spirit  of  the  changes.  Professor  Saintsbury  can  see  little  in 
them  but  the  desire  to  be  different.^  Nietzsche  himself  admits 
that  he  likes  short-lived  habits,  hence  not  an  official  position,  or 
continual  intercourse  with  the  same  person,  or  a fixed  abode,  or 
one  kind  of  health.^^  And  yet  the  movements  of  his  thought 
impress  me  as  on  the  whole  more  necessitated  than  chosen.  His 
break  with  the  religious  faith  of  his  youth  was  scarcely  from  a 
whim.  If  one  doubts,  let  one  read  the  mournful  paragraph  be- 
ginning, “Thou  wilt  never  more  pray,”  and  judge  for  himself^ 
— or  note  the  tone  of  “All  that  we  have  loved  when  we  were 
young  has  deceived  us,”  or  of  “What  suffering  for  a child  always 
to  judge  good  and  evil  differently  from  his  mother,  and  to  be 
scorned  and  despised  where  he  reveres!”^®  So  no  one  who 
reads  with  any  care  the  records  of  his  intercourse  with  Wagner, 
can  think  that  he  welcomed  the  final  break.  Rather  was  he 
made  ill  by  it,  in  body  and  soul — it  was  the  great  tragedy  of 
his  mature  life.^  Giving  up  the  ideas  of  free-will  and  responsi- 
bility was  not  from  choice;  even  the  idea  of  “eternal  recur- 
rence” was  first  forced  upon  him.  Almost  the  only  region  in 
which  he  felt  free  to  follow  his  will  was  in  projecting  a moral 
ideal,  and  in  the  moral  field  itself  he  recognized  strict  limits. 
In  general,  he  not  so  much  chose  his  path  as  chose  to  follow  it. 
He  felt  a “task,”  and  the  “burden”  of  his  “truths.”^  “Has 
ever  a man  searched  on  the  path  of  truth  in  the  way  I have — 
namely,  striving  and  arguing  against  all  that  was  grateful  to 
my  immediate  feeling?”^  He  opposed  the  artist  love  of 
pleasure,  the  artist  lack  of  conscience,  which  would  persuade  us 

“ WerJce,  XII,  369,  § 722. 

George  Saintsbury,  The  later  Nineteenth  Century,  p.  246. 

Joyful  Science,  § 295. 

Ihid.,  § 285. 

= « Werke,  XIV,  231,  § 472;  XIII,  220,  § 525. 

^''Joyful  Science,  § 279,  beginning  “We  were  friends  and  have  be- 
come strange  to  one  another,”  is  supposed  to  refer  to  Wagner — I know 
of  few  more  moving  passages  in  literature. 

Cf.  preface,  § 4,  to  Human,  All-too-Human;  Werke,  XIV,  413,  § 293. 

= “ Werke,  XIV,  350,  § 207. 


16 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


to  worship  where  we  no  longer  believe.^®  Nowhere  perhaps  more 
than  in  the  religious  field  does  feeling  run  riot  today,  nowhere 
does  epicureanism,  soft  hedonism,  more  fiourish — Nietzsche  put 
it  from  him.  He  had  the  will  to  be  clean  with  himself,  hard 
with  himself — he  despised  feeling’s  “soft  luxurious  flow,”  if  I 
may  borrow  Newman’s  phrase,  when  the  issue  was  one  of  truth. 
He  regarded  “libertinism  of  the  intellect”  as,  along  with  vice, 
crime,  celibacy,  pessimism,  anarchism,  a consequence  of  deca- 
dence.^^ ® Sometimes  his  dread  of  being  taken  in  seems  almost 
morbid.  For  instance,  in  referring  to  the  feelings  connected 
with  doing  for  others,  not  for  ourselves,  he  says  that  there  is 
“far  too  much  charm  and  sweetness  in  these  feelings  not  to 
make  it  necessary  to  be  doubly  mistrustful  and  to  ask,  ‘are 
they  not  perhaps  seductions?’  That  they  please — please  him 
who  has  them  and  him  who  enjoys  their  fruits,  also  the  mere 
onlooker — this  still  is  no  argument  for  them,  but  just  a reason 
for  being  circumspect.”^^  Pleasure,  comfort,  the  wishes  of  the 
heart  no  test  of  truth — such  is  his  ever-recurring  point  of  view. 
Indeed,  instead  of  there  being  any  pre-established  harmony  be- 
tween the  true  and  the  agreeable,  he  thinks  that  the  experience 
of  stricter,  deeper  minds  is  rather  to  the  contrary Some- 
times his  impulse  to  the  true  and  real  is  a torment  to  him,  he 
is  bose  towards  it  and  declares  that  not  truth,  but  appearance, 
falsehood,  is  divine ; ^ and  yet  the  impulse  masters  him.  Pos- 
terity, he  says,  speaks  of  a man  rising  higher  and  higher,  but 
it  knows  nothing  of  the  martyrdom  of  the  ascent ; “ a great  man 
is  pushed,  pressed,  crowded,  martyred  up  into  his  height.”^’ 
He  views  the  philosopher’s  task  as  something  hard,  unwilled, 
unrefusable ; and  so  far  as  he  is  alone,  it  is  not  because  he  wills 
it,  but  because  he  is  something  that  does  not  find  its  like.^®  “A 
philosophy  that  does  not  promise  to  make  one  happier  and  more 
virtuous,  that  rather  lets  it  be  understood  that  one  taking 
service  under  it  will  probably  go  to  ruin — that  is,  will  be  soli- 
tary in  his  time,  will  be  burned  and  scalded,  will  have  to  know 

Preface,  § 4,  to  Dawn  of  Day. 

Cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  1041,  42,  43,  95. 

Beyond  Good,  and  Evil,  § 33. 

The  Antichristian,  § 50. 

Will  to  Power,  § 1011. 

" WerJce,  XIV,  99,  § 213. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 212;  Will  to  Power,  § 985. 


SOME  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  HIS  THINKING  17 


many  kinds  of  mistrust  and  hate,  will  need  to  practise  much 
hardness  against  himself  and  alas!  also  against  others — such  a 
philosophy  offers  easy  flattery  to  no  one : one  must  be  l)orn  for 
it.”^^  Not  all  are  so  horn,  he  freely  admits,  and  he  speaks  of 
himself  as  a law  for  his  own,  not  for  all.  He  even  says  that 
a deep  thinker  is  more  afraid  of  being  understood  than  of  being 
misunderstood,  for  “in  the  latter  case  his  vanity  perhaps  suf- 
fers, but  in  the  former  his  heart,  his  sympathy,  which  always 
says,  ‘Ah,  why  will  you  have  things  as  hard  as  I?’  ” So  inde- 
pendence is  to  his  mind  something  for  few,  and  one  should  not 
attempt  it,  unless  “compelled.”^®  So  much  did  he  feel  that 
necessity  hedges  us  about  and  that  we  must  come  to  terms 
with  it,  that  amor  fati  became  one  of  his  mottoes.“ 

IV 

And  yet  loneliness,  and,  above  all,  change  in  loneliness  are 
not  agreeable  things,  and  it  is  impossible  to  avoid  a sense  of 
insecurity  in  the  midst  of  them.  With  all  his  assurance  Nietz- 
sche knew  that  his  way  was  a dangerous  one,  and  he  had  his 
moments  of  misgiving.  He  craved  companionship  and  the  sup- 
port that  companionship  gives.  Once  the  confession  drops  from 
him  that  after  an  hour  of  sympathetic  intercourse  with  men  of 
opposite  views  his  whole  philosophy  wavers,  so  foolish  does  it 
seem  to  wish  to  be  in  the  right  at  the  cost  of  love,  and  so  hard 
not  to  be  able  to  communicate  what  is  dearest  for  fear  of  losing 
sympathy — “Mnc  meae  lacrimae.”  ^ He  had  accordingly  no 
wish  to  impose  himself  on  others.  He  asks  youthful  readers  not 
to  take  his  doctrines  forthwith  as  a guide  of  life,  but  rather  as 
theses  to  be  weighed;  he  throws  the  responsibility  on  them, 
urging  them  to  be  true  to  themselves  even  against  him,  and 
saying  that  so  they  will  be  really  true  to  him.^^  In  the  same 
spirit  he  says, 

“ It  lureth  thee,  my  mode  and  speech  ? 

Thou  followest  me,  to  hear  me  teach? 

" Werke,  XIV,  412,  § 291. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 290. 

Ibid.,  § 29. 

Joyful  Science,  § 276. 

Brief e,  IV,  35-6. 

Werke  (pocket  ed.).  Ill,  442;  cf.  VI,  46,  §23. 


18 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


Nay!  Guide  thyself — honest  and  fail’ — 

And  follow  me,  with  care ! with  care ! ” 

He  regards  it  as  part  of  the  humanity  of  a teacher  to  caution 
his  pupils  against  himself,  and  even  says  that  a pupil  rewards 
his  teacher  ill  who  always  remains  his  pupil.^^  Knowing  from 
his  own  experience  how  difficult  it  is  to  find  the  truth,  having 
become  mistrustful  of  those  who  are  sure  they  have  it,  deeming 
such  confidence  indeed  an  obstacle  to  truth — knowing  that  one 
may  actually  have  to  turn  against  oneself  in  the  higher  loyalty, 
he  holds  those  alone  to  be  genuine  pupils,  i.e.,  genuine  con- 
tinuers of  a teacher’s  thought,  who,  if  need  be,  oppose  it.^  He 
wished  his  own  philosophy  to  advance  slowly  among  men,  to  be 
tried,  criticised,  or  even  overcome.  He  felt  that  it  was  above 
all  problems  which  he  presented,  and  his  most  pressing  pre- 
liminary need  was  of  help  in  formulating  them — “as  soon  as 
you  feel  against  me,  you  do  not  understand  my  state  of  mind, 
and  hence  not  my  arguments  either.”^®  What  a sense  he  had 
of  the  uncertainty  of  his  way  is  shown  in  a memorandum  like 
this:  “This  way  is  so  dangerous!  I dare  not  speak  to  myself, 
being  like  a sleep-walker,  who  wanders  over  house-roofs  and 
has  a sacred  right  not  to  be  called  by  name.  ‘What  do  I 
matter?’  is  the  only  consoling  voice  I wish  to  hear.”^^  He 
came  to  have  a sense  of  the  problematical  in  morality  itself — 
just  that  about  which  most  of  us  have  no  doubts  at  all  (whether 
because  we  think,  or  do  not  think,  I leave  undetermined). 
“Science  [positive  knowledge]  reveals  the  flow  of  things,  but 
not  the  goal.”^®  It  has  been  proved  impossible  to  build  a cul- 
ture on  scientific  knowledge  alone.^®  Hence  he  says  frankly  to 
us,  ‘ ‘ This  is  my  way,  where  is  yours  ? The  way — there  is  not.  ’ ’ “ 
And  yet  it  would  be  leaving  something  out  of  account  if 
I did  not  add  that  in  following  his  uncertain,  venturesome 
way,  Nietzsche  experienced  a certain  elevation  of  spirit.  It  was 
the  mood  of  the  explorer — the  risk  gives  added  zest.  He  some- 

“ Ibid.,  VI,  42,  §7  (the  translation  is  by  Thomas  Common). 

**  Dawn  of  Day,  § 447 ; Zarathustra,  I,  xxii,  § 3. 

Werke  (pocket  ed.).  Ill,  441,  § 19;  Dawn  of  Day,  § 542. 

*»  Werke,  XI,  384,  § 599. 

*■'  Ibid.,  XI,  385,  § 603. 

Werke,  XIII,  357,  § 672. 

I borrow  here  from  Riehl,  op.  cit.,  p.  67. 

Za/rathu8tra,  III,  xi,  § 2. 


SOME  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  HIS  THINKING  19 


times  uses  a word  that  sounds  strange  on  the  lips  of  a thinker : 
“dance.”  It  connotes  for  him  joy,  but  joy  that  goes  with  the 
meeting  of  danger  and  risk.  The  dancer  is  a fine  balancer,  as 
when  one  treads  a tight  rope  or  goes  on  smooth  ice.  He  ven- 
tures, goes  ahead  on  a basis  of  probabilities  and  possibilities. 
Nietzsche  speaks  of  bidding  farewell  to  assured  conviction  or 
the  wish  for  certainty,  of  balancing  oneself  on  delicate  ropes 
and  possibilities,  of  dancing  even  on  the  edge  of  abysses.®^  Some 
think  that  by  dancing  he  meant  playing  with  words  and  arbi- 
trary thinking,^  but  it  is  something,  he  tells  us,  that  just  the 
philosopher  has  got  to  do  well — a quick,  fine,  glad  dealing  with 
uncertainties  and  dangers  is  the  philosopher’s  ideal  and  art.^^ 
In  a sense,  all  movement  involves  risk,  even  walking  does,  and 
dancing  is  only  a heightened  instance.  It  may  be  not  quite 
irrelevant  to  remark  that  one  of  Nietzsche’s  tests  of  books  or 
men  or  music  was,  whether  there  was  movement  in  them  or  no, 
whether  they  could  walk  and  still  more  dance;  also  that  he 
himself  liked  to  think,  walking,  leaping,  climbing,  dancing — 
above  all  on  lonely  mountains  or  by  the  sea  where  the  paths 
were  hazardous.®^®  He  had  a kind  of  distrust  of  ideas  that 
came  to  one  seated  over  a book,  and  thought  he  had,  so  to  speak, 
caught  Flaubert  in  the  act,  when  he  found  him  observing,  “on 
ne  pent  penser  et  ecrire  qu’assis.”  ^ The  venturesome  element 
in  life,  above  all  in  the  life  of  thought,  only  lent  it  a new  charm. 
Though  at  first  the  large  amount  of  accident  and  chaos  in  the 
world  oppressed  him,  he  came  to  say  “dear  accident,”  “beauti- 
ful chaos.”  For  once  he  would  have  agreed  with  George  Eliot, 

“ Nay,  never  falter : no  great  deed  is  done 
By  falterers  who  ask  for  certainty.” 

The  mind,  he  felt,  reaches  the  acme  of  its  power  in  dealing  with 
uncertainties ; it  is  the  weaker  sort  who  want  the  way  assured 
beyond  doubt.® 

Because  of  his  variations  of  mood,  it  is  not  easy  definitely 

^‘Joyful  Science,  § 347.  One  recalls  Shelley’s  words,  “Danger  which 
sports  upon  the  brink  of  precipices  has  been  my  playmate.” 

Ibid.,  § 381. 

'•  Ibid.,  § 366. 

'■*  Ecce  Homo,  II,  § 1;  Twilight  of  the  Idols,  i,  § 34. 

Will  to  Power,  § 963. 


20 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


to  characterize  it.  Professor  Ziegler  speaks  of  him  as  a “meta- 
physically dissatisfied”  man,  and  Dr.  Mobius  has  a similar 
view.“  Nietzsche  once  spoke  of  himself  as  “profondement 
It  does  not  appear,  however,  that  he  was  tempera- 
mentally melancholy;  Mobius  describes  him  rather  as  “san- 
guine-choleric,”^® and  his  sister  says  (despite  what  I have 
already  quoted)  that  he  was  given  to  playfulness  and  jokes  as 
a boy — it  was  his  thoughts,  his  disillusionment  about  men  and 
things,  that  saddened  him.  With  the  shadow  lurking  “only 
around  the  corner  for  most  of  us — a skepticism  as  to  life’s 
value”  (to  quote  Miss  Jane  Addams)®®  he  was  only  too  familiar. 
Let  one  read  not  only  the  passages  I have  already  cited,  but 
one  in  Thus  spake  Zarathustra  beginning  “The  sun  is  already 
long  down,”®®  or  a description  of  the  proud  sufferer,®^  or  an 
almost  bitter  paragraph  on  the  last  sacrifice  of  religion,  namely 
the  sacrifice  of  God  himself.®®  And  yet  he  met  his  depression 
and  triumphed  over  it.  He  suffered  much,  renounced  much — 
we  feel  it  particularly  in  the  works  of  the  middle  period  ®® — and 
yet  he  gained  far  more  than  he  lost,  and  will  probably  go  down 
in  history  as  one  of  the  great  affirmers  of  life  and  the  world. 
But  his  joy  is  ever  a warrior’s  joy — it  is  never  the  easy  serenity, 
the  unruffled  optimism  of  Emerson. 

"’Theobald  Ziegler,  Friedrich  'Nietzsche;  P.  J.  Mobiue,  Nietzsche, 
p.  36. 

" Brief e,  II,  597. 

Op.  cit.,  p.  56;  cf.  Nietzsche  of  himself,  'Werke,  XI,  382,  § 587. 

““  The  Spirit  of  Youth  and  the  City  Streets,  p.  103. 

II,  X. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 425. 

'‘‘‘Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §55;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  302-3. 

See  preface,  § 5,  to  Mixed  Opinions  and  Sayings. 


CHAPTER  III 


HIS  “MEGALOMANIA,”  PERIODS,  CONSTANT  POINTS  OF 
VIEW,  SPIRITUAL  ANCESTRY 

I 

Nietzsche  is  sometimes  charged  with  “megalomania.”  It  must 
be  admitted  that  he  had,  at  least  in  sanguine  moments,  a high 
opinion  of  his  place  in  the  world  of  thought,  and  we  should 
undoubtedly  find  it  more  becoming  if  he  had  left  the  expression 
of  such  an  opinion — supposing  there  was  ground  for  it — to 
others.  The  language  is  most  offensive  in  private  memoranda, 
in  confidential  letters  to  friends,  and  in  the  autobiographical 
notes,  entitled  Ecce  Homo,  which  at  first  were  not  meant  for 
publication  and  have  only  been  given  to  the  light  since  his 
death;  still  it  occurs  also  in  offensive  form  in  a pamphlet  and 
a small  book  which  he  published  in  the  last  year  of  his  life, 
“The  Case  of  Wagner,”  and  TwUigJit  of  the  Idols.  Doubtless 
it  would  be  fairer  to  Nietzsche  to  cite  the  various  utterances  in 
the  connection  in  which  they  respectively  belong,  or  at  least 
at  the  end  of  the  book  after  a general  survey  of  his  thought 
had  been  given,  but  it  is  convenient  to  take  the  matter  up  now. 

I begin  with  the  utterances  (I  take  only  the  more  extreme 
ones)  which  he  himself  gave  to  the  public — only  noting  that 
he  called  “The  Case  of  Wagner”  and  Twilight  of  the  Idols 
his  “recreations,”  and  that  in  general  they  contain,  as  M. 
Taine  remarked  in  a letter  to  him,  “audaces  et  finesses,”  ^ which 
we  need  not  take  quite  literally.  In  one  of  the  passages,  after 
confessing  that  he  is  worse  read  in  Germany  than  anywhere 
else  and  is  somewhat  indifferent  to  present  fame  anyway,  he 
says  that  what  he  is  concerned  for  is  to  “get  a little  immor- 
tality” and  that  the  aphorism  and  the  sentence,  in  which  he 
is  “the  first  master  among  Germans,”  are  forms  of  “eternity”; 
his  “ambition  is  to  say  in  ten  propositions  what  every  one  else 
says  in  a book — what  every  one  else  does  not  say  in  a book.” 

' Briefe,  III,  206. 

21 


22 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


In  the  same  paragraph  he  speaks  of  his  having  given  mankind 
“the  deepest  book  it  possesses,  namely  Zarathustra/’  and  he 
adds  that  he  is  about  to  give  it  “the  most  independent”  (proba- 
bly referring  to  The  Antichristian)}  In  another  passage  he 
says  generally  that  he  has  given  the  Germans  their  “deepest 
books” — and  adds  mockingly,  “reason  enough  for  the  Germans 
not  understanding  a word  of  them.”^  In  still  another  place  he 
urges  that  German  philologists  and  even  Goethe  had  not  com- 
prehended the  wonderful  Greek  phenomenon,  covered  by  the 
name  of  Dionysus — that  he  was  the  first  to  penetrate  to  its 
interior  significance.^  ^ 

Turning  now  to  the  material  published  since  his  death,  we 
find  him  for  one  thing  daring  to  put  Aristotle  himself  in  the 
wrong  as  to  the  essential  meaning  of  tragedy — “I  have  first 
discovered  the  tragic.”®  Even  as  early  as  1881,  he  confided 
to  his  sister  his  belief  that  he  was  the  topmost  point 
of  moral  reflection  and  labor  in  Europe.®  He  reiterates  the 
belief  to  Brandes  in  1888,  saying  that  he  fancies  himself  a 
capital  event  in  the  crisis  of  valuations ; ^ to  Strindberg  he  even 
says,  “I  am  powerful  enough  to  break  the  history  of  humanity 
into  two  parts.”'’  In  Ecce  Homo  he  becomes  almost  lyric  in 
his  confidence:  “No  one  before  me  knew  the  right  way,  the  way 
upwards;  first  from  me  on  are  there  again  hopes,  tasks,  ways 
of  culture  to  be  prescribed — I am  their  happy  messenger.”® 
He  notes  of  a certain  day  (30  September,  1888)  : “Great  vic- 
tory; a seventh  day;  leisurely  walk  of  a god  along  the  Po.”® 
He  feels  that  he  has  had,  and  has  been,  an  extraordinary  for- 
tune, and  writes  with  an  extraordinary  abandon  and  an  almost 
childish  irresponsibility — explaining  who  he  is,  how  he  has  come 
to  be  what  he  is,  why  he  has  written  such  good  books,  and  so 
on.  It  is  as  if  he  were  somebody  else  and  he  were  telling  us 
about  him.  Let  one  note  the  account  of  the  extraordinary 
mental  conditions  out  of  which  the  first  part  of  Zarathustra 

‘ Twilight  etc.,  ix,  § 51. 

’ “ The  Case  of  Wagner,”  2nd  postscript. 

* Twilight  etc.,  x,  § 4. 

' Ecce  Homo,  I,  § 3 ; Will  to  Power,  § 1029. 

* Werke  ( pocket  ed. ) , VI,  xxiv. 

’ Briefe,  III,  285. 

® Ecce  Homo,  III,  ix,  § 2;  cf.  IV,  § 1. 

» lUd.,  Ill,  ix,  § 3. 


HIS  “MEGALOMANIA’ 


23 


arose.“  They  were  like  what  prophets  and  revealers  of  divine 
mysteries  may  be  imagined  to  have  experienced  in  the  past; 
most  persons  with  such  experiences  would  probably  be  turned 
into  “believers”  forthwith.  Nietzsche,  however,  is  cool,  ob- 
jective, analytical  in  describing  what  he  has  undergone;  it 
appears  simply  as  a happy,  supreme  moment  in  his  psycho- 
logical history — the  account  may  well  become  a kind  of 
classic  for  the  scientific  student  of  religious  phenomena.  In- 
deed, Nietzsche  now  makes  special  claims  for  himself  as  a 
psychologist — he  is  one  “who  has  not  his  like.”“  In  speaking 
of  the  seductive,  poisonous  influence  of  Christian  morality  on 
thinkers,  inasmuch  as  they  were  kept  by  it  from  penetrating 
into  the  sources  whence  it  sprung,  he  says,  “Who  in  general 
among  philosophers  before  me  was  psychologist  and  not  rather 
the  antithesis  of  one,  a ‘higher  kind  of  swindler,’  an  ‘ideal- 
ist’?” He  indicates  similar  feeling  about  himself  as  a thinker 
in  general — ranging  himself  with  Voltaire,  whom  he  calls,  in 
contrast  with  his  successors,  a “grand-seigneur  of  the  mind.”^^ 
German  philosophers  in  particular  he  finds  not  clean  and 
straight  in  their  thinking — they  never  went  through  a seven- 
teenth century  of  hard  self-criticism  as  the  French  had;  they 
are  all  Schleiermachers — and  “the  first  straight  mind  in  the 
history  of  mind,  one  in  whom  truth  comes  to  judgment  on  the 
counterfeits  of  four  millenniums,  ’ ’ should  not  be  reckoned  among 
them  (I  need  not  say  that  he  means  himself He  is  convinced 
of  his  future  influence.  He  is  “the  most  formidable  man  that 
ever  was,”  though  this  does  not  exclude  his  becoming  “the 
most  beneficent.”^®  He  speaks  of  his  sufferings,  and  adds  with 
a touch  of  humor,  “one  pays  dear  for  being  immortal;  one  dies 
several  times  while  one  lives.  ” He  looks  forward  to  institu- 
tions where  there  will  be  living  and  teaching  as  he  understands 
living  and  teaching — “perhaps  there  will  even  be  chairs  for  the 
interpretation  of  Zarathustra.”  His  thankfulness  to  Sils- 
Maria  (where  Zarathustra  was  first  conceived)  would  fain  give 
it  “an  immortal  name.”^®  Little  signs  of  vanity  escape  him. 


Ill,  iv,  §3. 
Ibid.,  Ill,  §5. 

“ Ibid.,  IV,  § 6. 

” Ibid.,  Ill,  iii,  § 1. 
“ Ibid.,  Ill,  X,  § 3. 


“ Ibid.,  IV,  § 2. 

Ibid.,  Ill,  vi,  § 5, 
” Ibid.,  Ill,  § 1. 

“ Ibid.,  Ill,  ix,  § 3, 


24 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


Women,  he  says,  like  him — all  but  the  unwomanly  kind ; people 
who  never  heard  his  name  or  the  word  philosophy  are  fond  of 
him — the  old  fruit-vendors  in  Turin,  for  example,  who  pick  out 
their  sweetest  grapes  for  him.  He  is  pleased  with  the  idea  of 
his  being  of  Polish  descent  (Poles  are  to  him  “the  French  among 
the  Slavs”) .“®  He  is  flattered  at  the  thought  of  devoted  readers ; 
“people  have  said  that  it  was  impossible  to  lay  down  a book  of 
mine — I even  disturbed  the  night ’s  rest.  ’ ’ His  anticipations 

of  the  future  border  on  the  grotesque.  His  Transvaluation 
[of  all  Values]  will  be  like  a “crashing  thunderbolt.”^  “In 
two  years,”  he  wrote  Brandes  in  1888,  “we  shall  have  the  whole 
earth  in  convulsions.  ’ ’ 

Such  is  what  Professor  Pringle-Pattison  calls  Nietzsche’s 
“colossal  egotism” — I know  no  worse  instances;  he  thinks  it 
attained  proportions  not  to  be  distinguished  from  mania.^^  It 
may  be  so,  but  one  or  two  things  should  be  borne  in  mind.  The 
first  is  Nietzsche’s  addiction  to  strong  language  in  general — 
particularly  toward  the  close  of  his  life.  For  instance,  “Where 
has  God  gone?  I will  tell  you.  We  have  killed  him — you  and 
I ; we  are  all  murderers,  etc.  ’ ’ “ — it  is  his  strong  picturesque 
way  of  stating  what  he  conceived  to  be  the  essential  fact  as  to 
the  course  of  modern  philosophical  thought,  beginning  with 
Kant.  He  amplifies  the  picture  of  coming  “convulsions”  by 
speaking  of  “earthquakes,”  “displacement  of  mountains  and 
valleys.”  He  feels  so  foreign  to  everything  German,  that  “the 
nearness  of  a German  hinders  his  digestion.  ” He  h^^s  a 
“horrible  fear”  that  he  may  some  day  be  taken  for  a saint, 
but  he  would  rather  be  a Hanswurst — “perhaps  I am  a Hans- 
wurst.”^®  Again,  “I  am  no  man,  I am  dynamite.”^  He  even 
says  to  his  friend  and  helper,  Peter  Gast,  “I  consider  you 

Ibid.,  Ill,  §5. 

Ibid.,  Ill,  § 2. 

Ill,  §3. 

^^Ibid.,  Ill,  X,  §4;  cf.  Brief e,  IV,  426. 

Briefe,  III,  321;  cf.  Ecce  Homo,  III,  x,  §4. 

A.  S.  Pringle-Pattison,  Man’s  Place  in  the  Cosmos  (2nd  ed.),  pp. 

284-5. 

Joyful  Science,  § 125. 

Ecce  Homo,  IV,  § 1. 

” Ibid.,  II,  § 5 

Ibid.,  IV,  § 1. 

= » Ibid.,  IV,  § 1. 


HIS  “MEGALOMANIA” 


25 


better  and  more  talented  than  I am.  ’ ’ “ Plainly  we  have  to 
make  some  allowance  for  one  who  speaks  in  ways  like  these. 
Secondly,  he  also  had  moods  quite  different  from  those  of 
“colossal  egotism.”  In  the  letter  to  Brandes,  in  which  he 
spoke  of  himself  as  a capital  event  in  the  crisis  of  valuations, 
he  immediately  added,  “but  that  may  be  an  error — more  than 
that,  a stupidity — I wish  to  be  obliged  to  believe  nothing  about 
myself.”  He  had  doubts  about  Zarathustra;  when  the  first 
recognition  of  it  came  to  his  knowledge,  he  wrote  to  Gast,  “So 
my  life  is  not  a failure  after  all — and  just  now  least  of  all  when 
I most  believed  it.”^^  At  another  time  he  confessed  to  Gast 
that  there  trailed  about  in  his  heart  an  opposition  to  the  whole 
Zarathustra-creation.^^  As  we  shall  see  later,  he  puts  forth 
almost  all  his  distinctive  views  tentatively,  and  is  rarely  with- 
out skeptical  reserves. 

The  fact  is  that  Nietzsche  was  not  naturally  a conceited 
being,  and  how  he  developed  such  a seemingly  overweening 
self-regard,  and  what  was  its  exact  nature,  is  an  interesting 
psychological  problem.  He  wrote  an  old  student  friend,  Frei- 
herr von  Seydlitz,  who  was  on  the  point  of  visiting  him  in 
Sorrento  in  1877,  “Heaven  knows  you  will  find  a very  simple 
man  who  has  no  great  opinion  of  himself;”  yet  to  the  same 
person  ten  years  later  he  used  language  about  as  strong  as: 
that  already  quoted — though  adding  “between  ourselves.”*^ 
How  is  the  development  to  be  explained?  So  far  as  I can 
make  out,  the  order  of  psychological  fact  was  something  like 
the  following: 

Increasingly  with  the  years  Nietzsche  became  a lonely  man — 
physically,  and  above  all  spiritually.*^  His  old  masters — 
Schopenhauer  and  Wagner — had  failed  him,  and  no  one  came 
to  take  their  place.  It  is  a mistake  to  think  that  he  wished  no 
master.  His  early  feeling  is  shown  in  “Schopenhauer  as  Edu- 
cator,”^ and  as  late  as  1885  he  wrote  his  sister,  “I  confront 
alone  an  immense  problem:  it  is  as  if  I were  lost  in  a forest, 
a primeval  one.  I need  help.  I need  disciples,  I need  a master. 
It  would  be  so  sweet  to  obey!  If  I were  lost  on  a mountain, 

Briefe,  IV,  26. 

Ibid.,  IV,  150. 

So  F.  Rittelmeyer,  Friedrich  'Nietzsche  und  die  Religion,  p.  176. 

'"Sect.  2. 


26 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


I should  obey  a man  who  knew  the  mountain;  sick,  I should 
obey  a physician;  and  if  I encountered  a man  who  could  en- 
lighten me  on  the  worth  of  our  moral  ideas,  I should  listen  to 
him,  I should  follow  him;  but  I do  not  find  any  one — no  dis- 
ciples, and  masters  still  less  . . . I am  alone.” He  says  else- 
where, “Why  do  I not  find  among  the  living  men  who  see 
higher  than  I and  have  to  look  down  on  me?  Is  it  only  that 
I have  made  a poor  search  ? And  I have  so  great  a longing  for 
such !”  Even  his  thought  of  a disciple  is  peculiar.  He  writes 
to  Peter  Gast  (sending  him  a manuscript),  “Read  me  with 
more  distrust  than  you  ordinarily  do,  say  to  me  simply,  this 
will  go,  that  that  will  not  go,  this  pleases  me,  why  that  does 
not,  etc.,  etc.”“  Once  he  makes  a disillusioned  thinker  say, 
“I  listened  for  an  echo  [i.e.,  some  real  reproduction  of  his 
thought]  and  heard  only  praise  but  even  praise  was  rare 
for  Nietzsche.  So  far  as  his  later  books  were  noticed  at  all, 
they  were  put  down  as  “eccentric,  pathological,  psychiatric,” 
and  as  a rule  they  were  ignored.  Even  rare  men  like  Burckhardt 
and  Taine  could  not  really  follow  them — they  had  not,  he  felt, 
the  same  inner  need  with  him,  the  same  will.^  Those  who  had 
been  friends  from  youth  up  became,  for  one  reason  and  an- 
other, and  not  always  without  his  fault,  estranged.  He  writes 
his  sister,  “A  deep  man  has  need  of  friends,  at  least,  unless  he 
has  a God : and  I have  neither  God  nor  friends.  Ah,  my  sister, 
those  whom  you  call  such,  they  were  so  in  other  times — but 
now?”^®  He  notes  down  privately:  “No  longer  does  any  one 
live  who  loves  me;  how  should  I still  love  life!”  This  was 
after  the  publication  of  Zarathustra,  when  he  also  says,  “After 
such  a call  from  the  deepest  soul,  to  hear  no  word  of  answer — 
that  is  a fearful  experience,  from  which  the  toughest  might  go 
to  pieces:  it  has  taken  me  out  of  all  ties  with  living  men.”*® 
So  (probably  in  the  last  year  of  his  life),  “It  is  now  ten  years — 

I cannot  locate  this  passage  in  the  Briefe,  and  must  rely  on  D. 
Hal6vy,  La  vie  de  Fr6d6ric  Nietzsche,  p.  314;  cf.  Genealogy  of  Morals,  III, 
§27. 

‘•>Werlce,  XII,  219,  § 466;  cf.  XIV,  358-9,  § 223. 

Again  I must  rely  on  Hal^vy,  op.  cit.,  p.  334. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 99. 

” Briefe,  I,  480,  495-6. 

Werke,  XIV,  305,  § 133. 

Will  to  Power,  § 1040. 


HIS  “MEGALOMANIA" 


27 


no  sound  any  longer  reaches  me — a land  without  rain.  ” ^ He 
feels  shut  up,  cut  off.  ‘ ‘ How  can  I communicate  myself  ? . . . 
When  shall  I come  out  of  the  cave  into  the  open?  I am  the 
most  hidden  of  all  hidden  things.”  No  longer  can  he  be  “elo- 
quent,” he  is  like  a cave-bear  or  hermit  and  talks  only  with 
himself,  his  ideas  are  acquiring  a sort  of  twilight-color  and 
an  odor  of  buried  things  and  of  mold.^  When  he  comes  to 
Leipzig  in  1886,  he  strikes  his  old  friend,  Erwin  Kohde,  as 
something  almost  uncanny:  “it  would  seem  as  if  he  came  from 
a country  where  no  man  lived.” 

And  yet  he  does  not  wish  to  take  his  experiences  too 
tragically,  does  not  mean  to  complain;  his  way,  he  is  aware,  is 
not  a way  for  most,  it  is  too  dangerous ; ® and,  as  men  and 
things  are  in  Germany  at  the  time,  not  even  the  few  he  hoped 
for  have  ears  for  him,  their  interests  being  elsewhere.  He 
tries  manfully  to  accept  the  situation,  though  not  without  some 
contempt  for  the  general  milieu  that  makes  it  necessary  to  do 
so.^^  Although  he  has  longed  and  waited  for  a strong  heart  and 
neck  on  which  he  could  for  an  hour  at  least  unload  his  burden, 
he  is  now  ready  for  the  last  (or  first)  lesson  of  life-wisdom:  to 
cease  expecting;  and  for  the  second:  to  be  courteous,  to  be 
modest,  thenceforth  to  endure  everybody,  endure  everything — 
in  short,  to  endure  yet  a little  more  than  he  had  endured  be- 
fore.^ He  even  thinks  that  solitude  may  be  useful  for  him — 
suspecting  that,  if  a man  can  endure  it,  it  tests  him  even  more 
than  sickness,  i.e.,  hardens  him,  makes  him  great,  if  he  has  any 
capacities  in  that  direction.^  He  had  said  in  Zarathustra, 
“Away  from  the  market-place  and  fame,  all  that  is  great  be- 
takes itself ; away  from  the  market-place  and  fame,  the  creators 
of  new  values  have  always  dwelt.”  Even  the  kindness  of 
those  who  pity  the  solitary  thinker  and  wish  to  make  him  more 
comfortable,  to  “save”  him  from  himself,  may  be  mistaken.^^ 
Just  to  be  himself  and  apart  from  the  world,  may  be  his  highest 
duty  to  the  world.  Not  to  lead  his  time,  or  take  a part  in  its 
confiicts,  but  to  turn  away  from  it  and  develop  the  idea  of  a 


“ Werke,  XIV,  355,  § 219.  “ Cf.  Werke,  XIV,  394. 

357,  §221;  359,  § 225.  ‘“I,  xii. 

*•  Ihid.,  356-9.  Will  to  Power,  § 985. 

“ Will  to  Power,  § 971. 


28 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


new  time,  may  be  the  greatest  thing.  Nietzsche  had  once  put 
the  idea  in  poetic  form : 

“ Destined,  0 star,  for  radiant  path 
No  claim  on  thee  the  darkness  hath! 

Roll  on  in  bliss  through  this  our  age! 

Its  trouble  ne’er  shall  thee  engage! 

In  furthest  world  thy  beams  shall  glow : 

Pity,  as  sin,  thou  must  not  know! 

Be  pure : that  duty’s  all  you  owe.” 

At  moments  he  could  almost  exult — at  least  he  could  quote  the 
beautiful  words  of  Isaiah,  “exultabit  solitudo  ei  florebit  quasi 
and  he  even  said  (though,  I fear,  with  something 
of  bravado),  “One  has  no  right  to  have  nerves  ...  to  suffer 
from  solitude.  For  my  part,  I have  never  suffered  save  from 
the  multitude. 

And  yet  this  “solitary”  was  bound  by  the  most  intimate 
ties  to  his  kind,  and  one  might  almost  say  that  love  for  his 
kind  was  final  motive  of  all  his  thinking.  What  was  the  path 
of  greatness  for  mankind? — that  was  his  supreme  question. 
How  he  worked  out  an  answer,  and  what  the  answer  was,  it 
will  be  the  effort  of  this  book  to  explain.  But  with  an  answer 
he  could  not  keep  silent  about  it.  He  had  to  speak  ^ — the 
burden  was  on  him.  Yes,  it  was  his  burden, — no  one  else  felt 
it,  no  one  else  gave  the  answer  credence.  Hence  an  acutely 
personal  note  in  speaking  of  it.  Sometimes  a message  sums 
up  the  aspirations  of  an  age:  then  the  individual  communicat- 
ing it  is  unimportant.  Sometimes,  however,  a message  goes 
counter  to  an  age,  or  at  least  speaks  to  deaf  ears;  then  the 
individual  becomes  of  capital  importance.  Nietzsche  never 
separates  himself  from  his  word ; but  in  the  circumstances  the 
word  lent  gravity  to  him.  It  was  well,  then,  that  men  should 
know  authoritatively  of  him,  should  understand  how  his  won- 
derful fortune  had  befallen  him,  should  be  let  into  his  inner 
thought  and  impulses.  As  if  aware  of  this,  he  speaks  freely 
to  one  or  two  friends,  and  he  writes  the  extraordinary  auto- 
biographical notes,  Ecce  Homo.  This  last  was  immediately 
only  for  his  sister’s  eyes,  who  was  at  the  time  in  South  Amer- 

Werke  (pocket  ed. ),  VI,  56  (the  translation  is  by  Thomas  Common). 

*”Werke,  XIV,  414,  § 297  (quoting  Isaiah,  xxxv,  1). 

Ecce  Homo,  II,  § 10. 


HIS  “MEGALOMANIA” 


29 


ica.  In  a letter  to  her  he  says,  “I  write  in  this  golden 
autumn  [1888],  the  most  beautiful  I have  ever  known,  a retro- 
spect of  my  life,  for  myself  alone.  No  one  shall  read  it  with 
the  exception  of  a certain  good  lama,  when  she  comes  across 
the  sea  to  visit  her  brother.  There  is  nothing  in  it  for  Ger- 
mans. ...  I mean  to  bury  the  manuscript  and  hide  it;  let  it 
turn  to  mold,  and  when  we  are  all  mold,  it  may  have  its  resur- 
rection. Perhaps  then  Germans  will  be  worthier  of  the  great 
present,  which  I mean  to  make  them.  ’ ’ Afterward  he 
changed  his  mind,  and  decided  to  print  the  book.  Without 
doubt,  it  is  a self-glorification,  but  the  glorifying  is  because  of 
the  glory  of  his  message  and  in  view  of  the  peculiar  and  tragic 
situation  in  which  he  found  himself.  To  how  slight  an  extent 
he  cared  for  himself  otherwise  is  shown  in  a memorandum: 
“For  my  son  Zarathustra  I demand  reverence,  and  it  shall  be 
permitted  only  to  the  fewest  to  listen  to  him.  About  me  how- 
ever, ‘his  father,’  you  may  laugh,  as  I myself  do.  Or,  to 
make  use  of  a rhyme  that  stands  over  my  house-door,  and  put 
it  all  in  a word : 

“ I live  in  my  own  house, 
have  nowise  imitated  anybody  else’s 
and  laughed  at  every  master, 
who  has  not  laughed  at  himself.” 

It  is  as  if  he  said,  “Think  of  me  as  you  will,  but  revere  my 
work.”  Indeed,  after  finishing  Ecce  Homo,  he  tells  a friend 
that  now  that  he  has  got  the  record  down,  people  had  better 
not  concern  themselves  any  further  about  him,  but  about  the 
things  for  which  he  lives  (derentwegen  ich  da  bin)P  The  fact 
is,  the  obtrusion  of  self  was  against  his  instincts.  For  long 
years,  he  testifies,  he  had  not  obtruded  even  his  problems  on 
the  men  whom  he  met,®^  and  now  he  confesses  that  his  habits 
and  still  more  the  pride  of  his  instincts  revolt  against  writing 
about  himself  as  he  does  in  Ecce  Homo  — this  though  he  says 
elsewhere  that  a great  man  may  be  proud  enough  to  be  un- 
ashamed even  of  his  vanity.^®  ® 

Hence,  though  vanity  and  personal  resentment  may  have 

” Werhe,  XV,  x.  Werke,  XIV,  350,  § 208;  412,  § 289. 

Hid.,  XIV,  410.  " See  the  preface. 

Brief  e,  I,  538.  ’•’'Will  to  Power,  § 1009. 


30 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


had  their  part  in  inducing  him  to  write  this  strange  book,®^  the 
main  motives  were  deeper.  He  wanted  to  make  clear  who  one 
with  his  extraordinary  fortune  was.  “People  confuse  me,” 
he  says  elsewhere,  adding  that  it  would  be  a great  service  if 
some  one  would  defend  and  define  him  against  these  con- 
fusions ; but,  as  things  were,  he  had  to  come  to  his  own  help.®® 
“Hear  me!”  he  says  in  the  preface,  “I  am  so  and  so.  Above 
all  things  do  not  confuse  me  with  some  one  else ! ” I will  only 
add  that  though  he  magnifies  himself,  it  is  not  as  a superman,'^ 
or  as  a messiah,  or  as  the  founder  of  a religion,  but  simply  as 
a bearer  of  ideas  and  messenger  of  a new  culture.  Indeed,  he 
sharply  marks  himself  off  from  prophets  and  founders  of  reli- 
gions.®® His  underlying  view  is  different.  Men  with  great 
thoughts  and  inspirations  in  the  past  have  usually  attributed 
these  to  a Not-themselves,  and  masked  their  pride,  or  lost  it, 
in  humility.  The  divine  in  man  they  put  outside  him.  “Not 
unto  us,  not  unto  us,  but  unto  God  be  the  glory,”  they  said  in 
substance.  They  may  have  been  right,  but  Nietzsche  thought 
otherwise.  To  him  the  ideas  that  came  to  him  were  his  very 
self,  the  projection  of  his  inmost  will,  and  he,  his  self  or  will, 
was  the  outcome  of  a long  course  of  purely  natural  evolution. 
This  does  not  mean  that  he  was  without  piety  and  reverence, 
but  it  was  a natural  and  human  piety,  the  reverence  was  self- 
reverence. At  the  same  time  the  ideas  might  be  detached  from 
him  individually  and  live  after  his  self  was  gone.  Indeed,  to 
make  them  live  on,  to  have  them  become  seeds  of  a new  human 
culture,  was  the  practical  meaning  of  his  aim.  Whether  he 
overestimated  his  ideas  and  himself  is  another  question.  Per- 
haps he  did.  But  the  charge  of  megalomania  or  “colossal 
egotism”  does  not  dispose  of  him.  Others — particularly 

founders  of  religions — have  spoken  of  themselves  in  far  more 
swelling  language  than  Nietzsche  ever  used ; but  we  do  not 
object  to  it,  if  we  find  it  well-based — indeed,  we  do  not  call  it 
“colossal  egotism”  at  all.* 

Cf.  Briefe,  IV,  172,  and  Meyer,  op.  cit.,  p.  384. 

Werke,  XIV,  360,  § 226. 

Ecce  Homo,  preface,  §4;  cf.  Dr.  Paneth’s  remark,  quoted  in  note 
to  Chapter  XIII,  at  the  end  of  this  book. 


HIS  PERIODS  AND  CONSTANT  POINTS  OF  VIEW  31 


n 

Nietzsche’s  intellectual  history  falls,  roughly  speaking,  into 
three  periods.  In  the  first,  he  is  under  the  influence  of  Scho- 
penhauer and  Wagner — the  influence  of  the  latter  might  be 
almost  called  a spell.  It  is  the  time  of  his  discipleship — lasting 
approximately  to  1876.  In  the  second,  he  more  or  less  frees 
himself  from  these  influences.  It  is  the  period  of  his  emanci- 
pation— and  of  his  coolest  and  most  objective  criticism  of  men 
and  things  (including  himself) — continuing  to  1881  or  1882. 
In  the  third,  his  positive  constructive  doctrine  more  and  more 
appears.  The  early  idealistic  instinct  reasserts  itself,  but  puri- 
fied by  critical  fire.  It  is  the  period  of  independent  creation. 
This  division  into  periods  is  more  or  less  arbitrary  (particu- 
larly so  are  the  dates  assigned)  ; something  of  each  period  is 
in  every  other;  but  change,  movement,  to  a greater  or  less 
extent,  existed  in  his  life,  and  the  “three  periods”  serve 
roughly  to  characterize  it. 


Ill 

Beneath  all  changes,  however,  there  were,  as  already  hinted, 
certain  constant  points  of  view,  and  it  may  be  of  service  to  the 
reader  to  mention  some  of  them  briefly  in  advance.  There  was, 
for  example,  an  underlying  pessimism — so  it  would  be  ordi- 
narily called — and  yet  with  it  increasingly  a practical 
optimism.  Nietzsche  felt  keenly  man’s  imperfection — more 
than  once  he  even  speaks  of  mankind  as  a “field  of  ruins.”®® 
One  thinks  of  John  Henry  Newman’s  readiness  to  credit  the 
“fall  of  man”  on  general  principles,  so  little  did  man’s  state 
agree  with  the  notion  of  something  Perfect  from  which  he 
came.  Nietzsche’s  sense  of  the  perfect,  however,  simply  shows 
itself  in  projecting  a possible  semi-Divine  outcome  of  humanity. 
This,  indeed,  becomes  a supreme  and  governing  idea  with  him. 
From  its  standpoint  the  callings  of  men  and  men  themselves 
are  judged.  Learning  and  science  are  not  ends  in  themselves, 
nor  do  the  rank  and  file  of  human  beings  exist  on  their  own 
account.  The  scholar  or  man  of  science  is  a tool  in  the  hands 
of  one  with  a sense  of  the  supreme  values,  the  philosopher, 
“ Schopenhauer  as  Educator,”  sect.  6,  Will  to  Power,  § 713. 


32 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


and  slavery  for  the  mass  in  some  form  or  other  is  a condition 
and  basis  of  higher  culture.  Culture,  as  something  beyond  a 
state  of  nature,  is  ever  the  ideal ; and  rule,  not  laisser  faire, 
is  the  way  to  it.  It  is  time  to  attempt  an  organization  of 
mankind  with  the  higher  end  in  view.  Present  national  or 
racial  aims  must  be  transcended — a human  aim  must  overtop 
them ; ^ and  a united  Europe  is  the  first  step.  Yet  progress,  all 
real  social  change,  must  be  slow.  “Everything  illegitimate  is 
against  my  nature,”  Nietzsche  once  said;  he  even  character- 
ized the  “revolutionary”  as  a form  of  the  “unreal.”  A new 
philosophy  is  the  first  requirement,  and  war,  if  it  comes,  must 
be  for  ideas.  The  general  standpoint  of  Nietzsche  might  be 
described  as  aristocratic — Georg  Brandes  called  it  “aristocratic 
radicalism,”  and  Nietzsche  said  that  it  was  the  most  intelligent 
word  about  him  which  he  had  yet  heard, ''  though  I cannot 
help  thinking  that  Professor  Hoffding’s  phrase,  “radical  aris- 
tocraticism,  ” more  nearly  hits  the  mark. 

I may  add  that  Nietzsche’s  mood  at  the  end  as  at  the  begin- 
ning was  one  of  hope.  He  criticised  Goethe  rarely,  but  he  did 
so  once  in  this  way.  The  aged  man  had  summed  up  his  ex- 
perience of  life  by  saying,  “ As  children,  we  are  sensualists; 
as  lovers,  we  are  idealists,  who  attach  to  the  loved  object  quali- 
ties which  are  not  really  there;  then  love  wavers,  and  before 
we  are  aware  of  it,  we  are  skeptics;  the  remainder  of  life  is 
indifferent,  we  let  it  go  as  it  will,  and  end  as  quietists,  as  the 
Hindu  philosophers  did  also.”  Nietzsche  quotes  the  passage 
and  adds,  “So  speaks  Goethe:  was  he  right?  If  so,  how  little 
reason  would  there  be  in  becoming  as  old,  as  reasonable  as 
Goethe!  Rather  were  it  well  to  learn  from  the  Greeks  their 
judgment  on  old  age — for  they  hated  growing  old  more  than 
death,  and  wished  to  die,  when  they  felt  that  they  were  com- 
mencing to  be  reasonable  in  that  fashion.”  He  had  been  re- 
ferring to  his  early  attempts  to  win  disciples,  and  his  “impa- 
tient hopes”;  and  “now — after  an  hundred  years  according  to 
my  reckoning  of  time ! — I am  still  not  yet  old  enough  to  have 
lost  all  hope” — what  was  gone  was  his  impatience.®^  It  was  a 
noble  mood — for  his  hope  was  ultimately  a hope  for  the  world; 
so  far  he  too  obeyed  “the  voice  at  eve  obeyed  at  prime.” 

«’  Briefe,  III,  275.  Op.  cit.,  p.  160.  “ Werke,  XIV,  381. 


HIS  SPIRITUAL  ANCESTRY 


33 


IV 

Nietzsche  felt  that  he  belonged  to  a spiritual  line.  He  was 
grateful  to  those  of  his  own  time  or  century  who  had  influenced 
him,  and  to  the  great  spirits  of  the  past  whose  blood  was  kindred 
to  his  own — indeed  he  was  so  conscious  of  being  well-born  in 
this  respect,  that  he  did  not  feel  the  need  of  fame.®^  His  an- 
cestry he  designates  differently  at  different  times.  Once  he 
speaks  of  four  pairs  of  names : Epicurus  and  Montaigne,  Goethe 
and  Spinoza,  Plato  and  Rousseau,  Pascal  and  Schopenhauer.^ 
At  another  time  he  mentions  Zarathustra,  Moses,  Mohammed, 
Jesus,  Plato,  Brutus,  Spinoza,  Mirabeau.®®  At  still  another, 
Heraclitus,  Empedocles,  Spinoza,  Goethe.®^  It  is  interesting  to 
note  that  the  most  constant  names  are  Spinoza  and  Goethe,  the 
next  most  constant  Plato.  Kant  is  not  mentioned.  This  cannot 
mean  that  Kant  had  not  influenced  him,  though  more  negatively 
than  otherwise,  and  perhaps  principally  through  Schopenhauer 
and  Friedrich  Albert  Lange;  with  Kant’s  theoretic  standpoint 
he  was  far  more  in  harmony  than  with  Plato’s,  but  Plato’s  aris- 
tocratic practical  philosophy  appealed  to  him  as  Kant’s  demo- 
cratic, Rousseau-born  ethics  did  not.  Nietzsche  confessed  that 
he  almost  loved  Pascal,  who  had  instructed  him  unendingly; 
but  he  thought  that  Christianity  had  corrupted  his  noble  intel- 
lect, though  if  he  had  lived  thirty  years  longer,  he  might  have 
turned  on  Christianity  as  he  had  earlier  on  the  Jesuits.' 

Werke,  XII,  216,  § 456. 

Mixed  Opinions,  etc.,  § 408. 

««  Werke,  XII,  216-7,  § 456. 

" Werke  (pocket  ed.),  VII,  491,  § 57. 


FIRST  PERIOD 


CHAPTER  IV 

GENERAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD;  THE  FUNCTION  OF  ART 

I 

In  passing  to  the  detailed  study  of  Nietzsche’s  intellectual  his- 
tory, we  begin  with  him  in  Basel,  where  he  is  professor  of 
classical  philology  at  the  University.  He  is  happy  in  his  rela- 
tions with  his  colleagues,  and  as  a teacher  he  is  uncommonly 
beloved.  Professor  Rudolph  Eucken,  for  a time  his  colleague, 
recalls  his  “kind  and  pleasant  manner”  in  examining  students 
for  the  doctor’s  degree,  “without  in  any  way  impairing  the 
strict  demands  of  the  subject-matter.  ” “ Jacob  Burckhardt, 
another  colleague  and  well-known  for  his  writings  on  the 
Renaissance  and  Greek  culture,  remarked  at  the  time  that  Basel 
had  never  before  had  a teacher  like  him.**  Nietzsche  is  par- 
ticularly happy  in  his  intercourse  with  Burckhardt,  who  was 
much  his  senior.  He  is  also  happy  in  a friendship  with  Richard 
Wagner,  with  whom  and  Frau  Cosima  he  often  spends  delight- 
ful week-ends  at  their  villa  above  Lake  Lucerne.  His  lectures 
are  strictly  professional,  and  only  the  few  devoted  to  philolog- 
ical study  attend  them. 

At  the  same  time  his  interests  are  wide,  and  he  finds  him- 
self wishing  to  do  more  than  train  efficient  philologists.'  The 
root-problems  of  life  and  the  world  engage  him.  He  has  at 
bottom  the  philosophical  instinct,  and  philological  study  be- 
comes more  or  less  a means  to  its  satisfaction.  Greek  philology 
opens  for  him  the  door  to  Greek  thought  and  speculation — 
enables  him,  he  thinks,  to  reconstruct  more  accurately  than 
would  otherwise  be  possible  the  Greek  view  of  life.  The  broader 
outlook  appears  in  a preliminary  way  in  his  inaugural  address, 

‘ ‘ Homer  and  Classical  Philology,  ’ ’ and  it  bore  rich  fruit  in  his 

* Werfce  (pocket  ed. ),  I,  xxviii. 

34 


GENERAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD 


35 


first  published  book,  The  Birth  of  Tragedy.  It  shows  itself  also 
in  fragmentary  minor  studies — meant  apparently  for  use  in  a 
work  on  Hellenism  in  general — on  the  Greek  state,  the  Greek 
woman,  competitive  strife  in  Homer,  philosophy  in  the  tragic 
period  of  the  Greeks  (i.e.,  the  pre-Socratic  philosophers),  all 
of  which  now  appear  in  his  published  Remains.  In  addition, 
he  writes  two  brief  but  pregnant  studies  of  a more  general 
character — one  in  aesthetics,  “On  the  Relation  between  Music 
and  Words,”  another  in  the  theory  of  knowledge,  “On  Truth 
and  Falsehood  in  the  Extra-moral  Sense.”  Aside  from  all 
this,  he  brings  his  ideas  to  bear  on  questions  or  tendencies  of 
the  day,  and  sometimes  makes  a decided  stir  in  the  intellectual 
world.  It  was  so  with  a pamphlet  attack  on  David  Friedrich 
Strauss — and,  though  not  so  markedly,  with  pamphlets  on  “The 
Use  and  Harm  of  History  for  Life,”  “Schopenhauer  as  Edu- 
cator,” and  “Richard  Wagner  in  Bayreuth.”  He  calls  them 
Unzeitgemdsse  Betrachtungen,  recognizing  that  the  views  he 
expresses  are  not  in  harmony  with  the  spirit  of  the  time.  The 
new  Germany  after  the  Franeo-Prussian  war  did  not  please 
him — it  was  too  self-satisfied,  materialistic,  Philistine : the  spirit 
was  spreading  to  the  educated  classes,  and  even  infected  the 
veteran  theologian  Strauss.  Philosophy  was  losing  its  old  dis- 
tinctive character — giving  way  to  history,  criticism,  scientific 
specialism.  The  cause  of  Wagner,  which  to  his  mind  held 
such  rich  promise  for  the  future,  was  having  to  struggle. 
Education  was  being  perverted.  He  gave  several  public  lec- 
tures on  the  latter  topic  and  outlined  more.  Notes  of  this 
course  and  memoranda  for  still  another  Unzeitgemdsse  Betracht- 
ung,  “We  Philologists,”  make,  along  with  the  books  and  pam- 
phlets already  mentioned  and  some  private  notes,  the  literary 
output  of  his  first  period.*^ 

I shall  now  endeavor  to  state  the  general  background  of 
thought  and  feeling  in  these  writings,  and  I shall  follow  the 
same  method  in  dealing  with  the  later  epochs  of  his  life.  I am 
aware  that  in  restricting  myself  in  this  way,  I do  more  or  less 
violence  to  Nietzsche.  He  was  above  all  a creature  of  flesh  and 
blood,  and  from  my  skeleton  manner  of  treatment  the  reader 
will  get  little  idea  of  the  richness  and  varied  charm  of  his  con- 
crete thinking.  But  my  purpose  is  a limited  one,  and  perhaps 


36 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


all  philosophy,  or  study  of  philosophy,  is  bound  to  be  “grav,” 
compared  with  “Lehens  Farie.” 

II 

First,  I may  note  that  Nietzsche  gives  a distinct  place  to 
philosophy.  It  is  not  for  him  merely  a vague  general  term,  but 
has  a special  meaning.  The  philosopher  is  distinct  from  the 
scholar  or  man  of  science,  as  well  as  from  the  average  unthinking 
run  of  men ; he  is  also  distinct  from  the  reformer.  His  impulse 
is  that  of  theoretic  curiosity,  but  the  curiosity  is  not  as  to 
anything  and  everything,  a mere  blind  undiscriminating  appe- 
tite for  knowledge  turned  loose  on  the  universe;  it  is  curiosity 
as  to  things  most  important,  the  things  worthiest  of  knowledge.*^ 
In  other  words,  in  philosophy  is  already  implicit  the  notion  of 
value,  and  the  philosopher  is  ipso  facto  a judge.®  He  is  differ- 
entiated from  the  scholar  as  well  as  the  ordinary  practical  man 
in  that  _he_seeks  the  great  knowledge — the  knowledge  of  the 
essence  and  core  of  things,  of  the  total  meaning  and  tune  of 
the  world ; his  effort  is  to  give  an  echo  to  this  tune  and  state 
it  in  conceptual  form.^  “Great”  here  is  determined  by  the 
situation  of  mari,  the  general  character  and  circumstances  of 
his  life.  As  to  this,  Nietzsche  felt  much  as  Pascal  had.  Round 
about  man,  the  heir  of  a few  hours,  there  are  frightful  preci- 
pices and  every  step  brings  up  the  questions,  Wherefore? 
Whither?  Whence?^  Philosophy  is  an  answer — an  attempt  at 
an  answer — to  these  questions;  hence  its  rank.  It  is  above  the 
special  sciences — is  indeed  their  ultimate  raison  d’etre  and  the 
judge  of  their  importance.  Nietzsche  is  keenly  conscious  from 
the  start  of  the  subordinate  rank  of  scientific  specialism — as 
against  the  tendency  to  exalt  it  current  in  Germany  at  the  time. 
Nor  at  first  does  he  seem  to  doubt  that  philosophical  truth  can 
be  got.®  At  the  same  time,  the  philosopher  is  thinker,  judge, 
legislator,  not  practical  reformer.® 

The  general  conception  of  the  world  which  Nietzsche  first 
reached,  however,  is  different  from  what  most  of  us  are  accus- 
tomed to,  and  repels  rather  than  attracts.  We  think — at  least 
most  of  us  try  to  think — of  reason  and  intelligence  as  governing 

® “ David  Strauss,  Confessor  and  Author,”  sect.  8. 

’ “ Schopenhauer  as  Educator,”  sect.  3. 


GENERAL  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD 


37 


the  world,  of  justice  as  its  law,  and  of  love  as  its  driving  force. 
But  Nietzsche  is  unable  to  make  out  either  a rational  or  a moral 
government  of  things.  Change  and  undoing  overtake  all  things, 
even  the  best  and  rarest : what  is  excellent  is  no  more  permanent 
than  anything  else.  The  world  seems  to  him  chiefly  a blind 
striving  of  will,  or  rather  of  wills — wills,  too,  which  strive  with 
one  another  (save  within  certain  limits)  and  more  or  less  live 
off  one  another.  He  flnds  little  that  is  worshipful  or  adorable 
in  such  a world  (whether  as  it  appears  or  as  it  inwardly  is). 
Aside  from  awe'  before  its  vastness,  it  rather  awakens  pity.  In 
reaching  this  result  Kant’s  negative  arguments  against  theology 
had  affected  him,  but  it  was  the  concrete  make-up  of  the  world 
that  was  the  decisive  thing — especially  what  Darwin  has  brought 
home  to  us  English-speaking  people,  and  what  Schopenhauer 
had  noted  decades  before.  The  “horrible  struggle  for  exist- 
ence” is  often  referred  to.*'  The  world  was  undivine.  Nietz- 
sche even  speaks  of  this  later  as  if  it  hadljeen  a first-hand  inde- 
pendent conviction  with  him — of  atheism  as  conducting  him  to 
Schopenhauer.^  If  so,  Schopenhauer  simply  did  him  the  service 
of  formulating  and  grounding  his  conviction — i.e.,  of  tracing 
back  to  their  ultimate  metaphysical  origin  the  pain  and  wrong 
of  the  world,  the  general  contradictoriness  and  impermanence 
of  things. 


Ill 

How  did  Nietzsche  react  to  such  a view  practically  ? Careful 
attention  to  his  various  early  writings  seems  to  reveal  two  atti- 
tudes— taken  either  at  successive  times,  or,  according  to  his 
mood,  more  or  less  at  the  same  time.  The  reaction  that  came 
first  (if  there  was  a first)  was  like  Schopenhauer’s  own.  He 
wished  to  renounce  life,  felt  pity  to  be  the  supreme  law,  even 
' inclined  to  practical  asceticism  ® — and  with  it  all  had  the  dim 
sense  of  another  order  of  things  than  this  we  know,  one  to 
which  the  negation  of  life  somehow  conducts.  There  are  several 
passages  of  this  tenor.*  The  other  reaction  was  strongly  con- 
trasted— it  was  a disposition  to  accept  life  and  the  world,  even 
if  they  were  undivinely  constituted.  Why  this  one  came  to 
predominate,  it  might  be  hard  to  say.  One  consideration  and 
^ Ecce  Homo,  III,  ii,  § 2.  ' Cf.  P.  J.  Mobius,  op.  cit.,  p.  58. 


38 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


another  may  have  influenced  him;  but  probably  at  bottom  it 
was  for  a reason  below  or  beyond  reason — because  the  life- 
instinct  (will  to  live)  imperiously  asserted  itself  in  him. 

This  affirmation  of  life  in  face  of  an  irrational  and  unmoral 
world  comes  to  be  one  of  the  most  distinctive  things  in  Nietzsche 
and  should  be  noticed  with  some  care.  It  is,  of  course,  totally 
different  from  the  cheerful  acceptance  of  life  which  the  Christian 
or  the  pious  theist  makes — different  also  from  the  temperamental 
optimism  which  simply  looks  on  the  bright  side  of  things,  dif- 
ferent even  from  the  meliorism  which  looks  for  better  and  better 
things.  Nietzsche,  now  at  least,  looks  for  no  radical  improve- 
ment, whether  in  the  world  at  large  or  in  the  fundamental  con- 
ditions of  human  life.’  The  poignant  thing  is,  that  our  life,  like 
all  other  life,  exists  and  maintains  itself  by  violence  and  wrong. 
We  rob  other  things  of  existence  that  we  ourselves  may  live, 
as  truly  as  animals  do — the  best  of  us  are  parties  to  this  vio- 
lence, the  very  saint  could  not  live  off  the  inorganic  elements; 
if  for  a single  day  the  race  should  really  hold  all  life  sacred, 
touching  or  despoiling  nothing,  it  would  straightway  come  to  an 
end.  That  is,  Lehen  und  Morden  ist  eins — living  and  killing 
are  one.®  Yes,  the  higher  ranges  of  human  life  exist  by  more 
or  less  despoiling  the  lower  ranges.  Culture  ‘ ‘ rests  on  a horrible 
foundation.”^*'  It  is  only  possible  with  leisure,  and  leisure  for 
some  means  that  others  must  work  more  than  their  share — and 
those  who  work  for  others’  benefit  rather  than  their  own  and 
have  to,  are  really  slaves.  The  culture  of  ancient  Greece — the 
fairest  the  world  has  known — rested  on  literal  slavery;  essen- 
tially it  is  always  so,  is  so  today,  though  we  may  veil  the  fact 
from  our  eyes  by  speaking  of  “free  contract.” 

And  yet  to  accept  life  on  these  terms  is  not  easy  and  involves 
inner  suffering.  Some  may  feel  that  culture  and  the  higher 
ranges  of  life  are  not  worth  the  price  that  has  to  be  paid  for 
them — that  if  all  cannot  rise,  it  is  better  that  none  should. 
Indeed,  the  feeling  may  go  deeper  still,  it  may  extend  to  the 
foundations  of  life  itself — if  life  is  necessarily  of  the  general 
predatory  nature  described,  we  may  think  it  better  to  be  done 
with  it  altogether.  So  felt  Schopenhauer,  and  so,  at  moments 
at  least,  Nietzsche.  But  a deeper  impulse — something  wild  and 
6 Werke,  IX,  153,  ’ Ibid.,  IX,  151. 


FUNCTION  OF  ART  39 

unmoral,  if  you  will — urged  him  finally  the  other  way.  He 
took,  chose  life,  even  at  this  cost. 

IV 

The  problem  of  the  easement  of  existence,  however,  under 
conditions  like  these  becomes  a pressing  one.  And  here  Nietz- 
sche discovers  a vital  significance  in  art.  Art  is  a kind  ofj 
playing  with  the  world;  it  consists  in  seeing  it — in  part  or  in( 
toio — as  in  a play,  making  a picture  or  spectacle  of  it.  So  far 
as  we  follow  this  impulse,  we  disembarrass  ourselves  of  our- 
selves and  the  world  as  immediate  experience,  and  view  every- 
thing as  outside  us,  detached  from  us — we  contemplate  rather 
than  experience,  even  the  terrible  we  can  look  upon  undis- 
turbed.® That  is,  the  burden  of  actual  life  is  momentarily 
lifted,  and  we  may  even  enjoy  rather  than  suffer.  We  may 
enjoy,  though  what  we  see  would  undo  us,  were  it  part  of  actual 
experience.  It  is  Schopenhauer’s  doctrine  over  again.  Still 
earlier  Goethe  had  stated  the  essential  principle  of  it : 

“ Was  im  Leben  uns  verdriesst 
Man  im  Bilde  gern  geniesst.” 

Nietzsche  clings  to  it  now.  Art  is  not  a fanciful  thing  to  him, 
a luxury — it  meets  a vital  need:  by  it  we  are  helped  to  go  on 
living.^  Not  only  the  thinker,  the  highly  organized  nature  has 
this  need, — all  who  suffer  experience  it,  and  particularly  the 
great  laborious  mass,  too  easily  tempted  to  insurrection  or  to 
suicide. 

v 

Nietzsche’s  preoccupations  are  now  with  old  Greek  life,  and 
he  borrows  illustrations  for  his  view  of  art  largely  from  this 
field.  Particularly  does  he  attend  to  the  religious  festivals  and 
the  tragic  drama.  His  view  of  the  undertone  of  life  among  the 
Greeks,  it  should  at  once  be  said,  is  novel — at  least  to  those  of 
us  who  have  our  ideas  chiefly  from  Winckelmann  and  Goethe, 
and  think  of  “the  light  gracefulness  of  the  old  Greek  pagan- 
ism” (Carlyle),  or  of  their  moral  and  religious  life  sitting 
® Birth  of  Tragedy,  sects.  22,  24,  25. 


40 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


“easily  upon  them  like  their  own  graceful  garments”  (John 
Fiske),  A recent  writer  even  says,  “The  ancient  Greeks  seem 
to  have  been  incapable  of  taking  life  seriously.  ’ ’ “ But  how  do 
views  of  this  sort  agree  with  the  spirit  of  the  answer  which  the 
legendary  Silenus  gave  to  King  Midas’s  question  as  to  what  is 
best  for  man  ? ‘ ‘ Pitiful  race  of  a day,  children  of  accident  and 
sorrow,  why  do  you  force  me  to  say  what  were  best  left  un- 
heard ? The  best  of  all  is  unobtainable — not  to  be  born,  not  to 
be,  to  be  nothing.  The  second  best  is  early  to  die.”  Yet  the 
answer  long  lived  in  Greek  tradition,  and  the  substance  of 
thought  underlying  it  is  repeated  by  Simonides  and  by  Soph- 
ocles. Indeed,  how  do  the  common  views  harmonize  with 
Pindar’s  somber  tone  in  speaking  of  the  soul  as  being  here  in 
a mortal  body  because  of  ancient  guilt — or  with  the  ascetic 
tendencies  which  we  discover  in  the  Orphic  cults  and  in  Pytha- 
goreanism?  From  considerations  of  this  nature,  Nietzsche  was 
led  to  conclude  that  there  was  an  undertone  of  profound  seri- 
ousness and  even  of  pessimism  among  the  ancient,  particularly 
most  ancient,  Greeks  (those  before  Socrates),  and  Burckhardt 
substantially  agreed  with  this  view  when  he  characterized  the 
Greek  spirit  as  pessimism  in  world-view,  optimism  in  tempera- 
ment." It  was  then  against  a somber  background  that  the  art 
of  the  Greeks  had  arisen;  indeed,  Nietzsche  held  that  it  was 
in  part  just  because  they  suffered  as  they  did,  because  they 
felt  with  such  particular  keenness  the  anomalous  and  prob- 
lematical in  existence,  that  their  art  grew  to  its  extraordinary 
and  unique  proportions." 

His  view  of  Greek  art,  and  particularly  of  the  tragic  drama, 
is  of  such  interest,  and  hangs  together  so  closely  with  his 
general  philosophical  view,  that  I shall  give  some  details.® 

The  art-impulse  which  has  been  described  he  designates  as 
the  Apollinic  impulse.  Apollo,  we  remember,  was  a God  of 
dreams,  and  under  this  impulse  we  see  things  as  in  a,  dream, 
i.e.,  detached  from  real  experience.  According  to  Lucretius  the 

° The  data  are  in  The  Birth  of  Tragedy,  to  which  (dispensing  with 
special  references,  save  in  a few  cases)  I refer  the  reader.  The  whole  of 
it  should  be  read,  and  reread,  by  one  who  really  wishes  to  get  Nietzsche’s 
point  of  view — or,  I might  say,  to  have  an  initiation  into  his  way  of 
thinking  in  general ; and  I regret  to  have  to  say  that  it  should  be  read  in 
the  original — or  at  least  in  the  French  translation. 


FUNCTION  OF  ART 


41 


Gods  first  appeared  to  men  in  dreams/®  and  Nietzsche  regarded 
the  Olympian  family  of  deities  as  a kind  of  detached  glorified 
vision  of  the  commanding,  powerful,  and  splendid  elements  in 
Greek  life.  They  were  hardly  divine,  in  our  sense  of  that  term, 
that  is,  embodiments  of  justice,  holiness,  purity — any  one  who 
approaches  the  Homeric  pantheon  with  Christian  feelings,  he 
remarks,  is  bound  to  be  disappointed.  The  Greek  rather  saw 
in  that  immortal  company  himself  over  again  and  what  was 
great,  both  good  and  evil,  in  his  own  life  and  experience,  includ- 
ing the  contradictions  and  tragic  elements.^^  Religion  itself 
was  to  this  extent  like  art — and  it  had  the  emancipating,  reliev- 
ing, reassuring  infiuence  of  art.  The  Gods,  Nietzsche  says 
sententiously,  justified  human  life  by  living  it  themselves — the 
“only  satisfying  theodicy.”  There  were  besides  epic  narrative 
and  sculpture  and  painting,  all  coming  from  the  same  picture- 
making impulse.  The  things  narrated  or  represented  might 
have  elements  of  terror  in  them,  but  when  thus  projected  and 
separated  from  actual  experience,  the  main  feelings  in  witness- 
ing them  were  of  wonder  and  admiration.  This  would  be  the 
case,  even  if  they  corresponded  in  every  single  form  and  linea- 
ment to  the  realities  they  reproduced.  Indeed,  this  kind  of  art 
observed  the  metes  and  bounds,  the  definite  outlines  and  forms, 
of  the  actual  world  most  scrupulously. 

But  there  was  another  art-impulse,  to  which  Nietzsche 
gives  the  name  Dionysiac — it  is  so  much  “another,”  that  we 
may  hardly  see  the  propriety  of  calling  it  an  art-impulse  at  all. 
Nietzsche’s  description  of  it  is  colored  by  Schopenhauerian 
metaphysics,  and  is  not  easy  to  follow  for  those  who  are  not 
versed  in  the  latter;  but  I shall  try  to  make  his  meaning  clear. 
Dionysus,  as  is  well  known,  was  outside  the  Olympian  circle  of 
divinities.  His  worship  (the  rites  in  his  honor)  was  of  an 
altogether  peculiar  character.  It  was  not  sober,  orderly,  and 
decorous,  observing  metes  and  bounds,  like  the  worship  of 
Apollo  and  Zeus,  but  a more  or  less  riotous  thing.  There  was 
dancing,  and  the  music  of  the  flute  which  accompanied  it  was 
very  different  from  the  music  of  Apollo’s  lyre.  Exaltation 

It  was  in  visions  and  dreams  that  the  Hebrew  God  appeared  to 
men — particularly  to  prophets  (cf.  Numbers,  xii,  6). 

“ Cf.  also  Genealogy  of  Morals,  II,  § 23. 


42 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


came  to  the  worshipers,  a sense  of  oneness  with  the  God,  who 
was  imitated  in  extraordinary  acts;  the  lines  which  divide 
human  beings  from  one  another  ^ and  from  the  animal  world 
were  for  the  moment  obliterated,  the  feeling  of  separate  indi- 
viduality vanished,  and  a sense  of  universal  kinship  took  its 
place.  It  was  a state  of  semi-intoxication,  often  literal  intoxi- 
cation— Dionysus  was  secondarily,  if  not  primarily,  a God  of 
the  vine,  and  ancient  peoples,  it  must  be  remembered,  often 
regarded  drunkenness  as  a divinely  inspired  condition.'^  This 
was  the  joyous  side  of  the  Dionysian  festival.  But  the  joy  was 
of  a peculiar  sort.  It  was  over  against  a background  that  of 
itself  would  have  bred  melancholy  and  dejection.  Dionysus 
was  a God  of  change,  a God  of  the  destruction  involved  in 
change  as  well  as  of  production  and  fertility,  a hunter  {Za- 
greus)  bent  on  slaying,  a devourer,  a flesh-eater  {sarcophagus  or 
(opgargi)  ; yes,  he  was  himself  a suffering  God  and  the  dithyramb, 
or  hymn  in  his  honor,  sang  his  mystical  woes.''  The  joy  of  the 
festival  was  a joy  following  gloom — and  this  is  the  explanation 
of  the  excesses  that  marked  it,  its  orgiastic  traits.  The  winter 
revealed  the  God  destroying,  the  spring  came  as  a revelation  of 
his  creative  power — and  the  spring  was  the  time  of  his  festival. 
The  worshipers  shared  both  in  his  pain  and  his  pleasure,  iden- 
tified themselves  with  the  whole  round  of  his  life — on  the  one 
hand,  fasting,  hunting,  devouring  the  flesh  of  wild  animals;  on 
the  other,  dancing,  reveling,  and  re-enacting  his  creative  fer- 
tility.® It  is  evident  that  Dionysus,  so  taken,  was  a sort  of 
epitome  of  life  itself,  a symbol  of  the  world  of  change  in  general, 
arid  Nietzsche  thinks  that  his  worship  had  hence  the  highest 
significance,  since  it  amounted  to  a reaffirmation  of  life  in  all 
its  range,  and  a mystical  identification  of  the  worshiper  with 
the  very  spirit  of  it.  In  a striking  passage  he  sums  up  the 
Dionysiae  experience,  substantially  as  follows:  We  know  that 
everything  that  arises  must  await  a painful  end,  we  face  the 
terrors  of  individual  existence  and  yet  are  not  benumbed,  for 
a metaphysical  consolation  lifts  us  above  the  wheel  of  change; 
for  a brief  moment  we  become  the  Primal  Being  (Urwesen) 
himself  and  feel  his  uncontrollable  desire  for  and  joy  in  exist- 
ence; the  struggle,  the  pain,  the  destruction  attending  all  phe- 
nomena, seem  even  necessary  in  view  of  the  innumerable  forms 


FUNCTION  OF  ART 


43 


ever  pressing  and  pushing  into  life,  the  boundless  fertility  of 
the  World-Will ; at  the  very  moment  in  which  we  are  stung  by 
the  pain,  we  share  also  in  the  immeasurable  creative  pleasure; 
and  so,  despite  fear  and  pity,  we  are  happy  and  kept  to  life.* 
The  Dionysiac  experience  is  evidently  very  different  from 
that  of  the  Apollinic  dreamer  and  seer,  and  the  question  is, 
what  has  it  to  do  with  art  at  all?  Nietzsche  says  that  the 
Dionysiac  man  is  an  art-work,  not  an  artist.  For  he  is  not 
so'much  irrokmg  at  liie  as  in  a picture  and  finding  relief  in 
detaching  it  from  himself,  as  entering  it  afresh,  re-experiencing 
its  joy  and  its  pain,  saying  yes  even  to  what  is  tragic  in  it. 
In  short,  the  Apollinic  type  man  looks  on  life,  the  Dionysiac 
relives  it.  The  truth  is,  the  Dionysiac  experience  is  material 
for  art,  it  is  a subject  that  may  be  artistically  treated — and 
this  is  what  Nietzsche  really  (or  logically)  means,"  the  justifica- 
tion for  his  speaking  of  a second  art-impulse  being  simply  that 
the  material  has  been  so  used.  For  out  of  the  Dionysian 
festival  grew  that  supreme  form  of  Greek  art,  the  tragic  drama ; 
this  may  be  briefly  characterized  as  an  Apollinic  treatment  of 
the  Dionysiac  experience — a marriage  of  the  two.  If  we  fancy 
to  ourselves  a worshiper,  who  has  wandered  off  from  the  rest 
in  his  intoxication  and  mystic  self-oblivion,  sinking  to  the 
ground  for  a moment,  and,  as  he  lies  there,  seeing  himself  and 
his  rapt  state  and  union  with  the  God  as  in  a dream,  we  have 
the  Dionysiac  experience  and  the  rudiments  of  an  Apollinic 
vision  united  in  the  same  person.’'  It  is  just  such  a blending- 
of  diverse  elements  that  lies,  Nietzsche  thinks,  at  the  basis  of 
Greek  tragedy.”'  The  chorus,  as  is  commonly  recognized,  was 
the  essential  feature  of  the  drama,  and  the  chorus  is  really  a 
transformed  band  of  Dionysus  worshipers.  They  are  satyrs, 
even  as  the  original  worshipers  dressed  themselves  in  wild 
costumes  to  imitate  the  God.*^  The  action  on  their  part  is 
entirely  song  and  dance — the  dialogue  Js__anIa’ddit4onr"an4-  it  is 
something  in  which  " they  have  no  par^  The  song  is  really  a 
transformation  of  the  original  dithyramb,  “the  beautiful  song 
of  Dionysus,’’  as  Archilochus  called  it.  According  to  what 
Nietzsche  deems  incontestable  tradition,  the  sole  subject  of 
Greek  tragedy  in  its  very  earliest  form  was  the  sufferings  of 


“ Cf.  also  Erwin  Rohde,  Psyche,  II,  15. 


44 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


Dionysus.  He  thinks  that  even  when  Prometheus  and  CEdipus 
appear  on  the  stage,  they  are  only  a kind  of  mask  for  the 
original  divine  hero.  I will  not  go  further  into  details.  The 
essential  point  in  Nietzsche’s  interpretation  is  that  the  suffering 
and  triumphing  God  (or  world,  or  man — at  bottom  all  are  the 
same)  is  seen  in  vision  and  becomes  a subject  of  art.  The  art, 
however,  quite  differs  from  the  epos  or  any  form  of  Apollinic 
art.  The  rhapsodist,  equally  with  the  painter  and  sculptor,  sees 
his  images  outside  himself.  But  in  Dionysiae  art,  the  artist  and 
even  the  spectators  of  the  drama  imaginatively  identify  them- 
selves with,  and  become  a part  of,  that  which  they  see.  All  are 
for  the  moment  participants  in  the  divine  drama  spread  out 
before  their  eyes. 

In  these  ways,  then,  according  to  Nietzsche,  the  Greeks  were 
Relped  to  live,  in  face  of  the  tragic  facts  of  the  world.  One 
kind  of  art  projected  existence  in  a picture — and  there  came 
not  only  relief,  but  happiness  in  contemplating  it.  Another 
more  daring  kind  led  men,  as  it  were,  to  live  existence  over 
again,  to  reaffirm  even  the  tragedy  in  it — change,  suffering, 
death — as  a part  of  the  eternal  round.  This  was  the  most 
powerful  and  moving  kind  of  art — in  it  the  Greek  found  his 
supreme  redemption  from  practical  pessimism.  Under  the 
shadow  of  the  Olympian  deities,  in  the  presence  of  great  works 
•of  plastic  art,  but  above  all  under  the  influence  of  the  Dionysian 
festival  and  the  tragic  drama,  the  pain  of  existence  was 
transcended,  and  life  ennobled. 


CHAPTER  V 


ULTIMATE  ANALYSIS  OF  THE  WORLD 

In  trying  to  reach  the  last  elements  of  the  world,  Nietzsche 
manifests  two  tendencies  in  the  writings  of  the  first  period. 
One  is  in  the  direction  of  metaphysics  proper,  the  other  in  the 
direction  of  positivism  or  phenomenalism.  Probably  the  meta- 
physical tendency  came  first,  and  he  appears  to  have  only 
gradually  worked  himself  out  of  it.’^  I shall  begin  by  con- 
sidering it. 

I 

Nietzsche  was  never  a materialist.  He  followed  Kant  and 
Schopenhauer  in  holding  that  what  we  call  the  material  world 
is  sensational  in  nature  and  subjective.^  He  criticises  Strauss 
for  his  superficial  treatment  of  Kant,  and  for  his  use  of  the 
language  of  crude  realism.^ *  **  On  the  other  hand,  as  against  the 
total  obscurity  in  which  Kant  had  left  the  nature  of  ultimate 
reality,  Nietzsche  thought  that  he  found  light  in  Schopenhauer. 
Kant  had  said,  summing  up  the  results  of  his  criticism,  that 
the  things  we  perceive  are  not  what  we  take  them  to  be,  that 
if  we  make  abstraction  of  ourselves  as  knowing  subjects,  or 
even  only  of  our  senses,  all  the  qualities  and  relations  of  objects 
in  space  and  time,  yes,  space  and  time  themselves,  disappear, 
that  as  phenomena  they  can  only  exist  in  us — hence  what  things 
are  independently  of  us  remains  wholly  unknown.  Such  an 
outcome,  when  it  is  really  taken  to  heart  and  not  left  as  an 
incident  in  an  abstract  logical  process,  is  extremely  depressing. 
If  one  cannot  accept  Kant’s  counterbalancing  ethical  reason- 
ings, one  is  left  in  total  gloom — unless,  indeed,  one  becomes  a 

* As  we  shall  see,  he  returns  to  a modified  form  jjf  metaphysics  in 
his  last  period. 

“ “ David  Strauss  etc.,”  sect.  6. 

45 


46 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


complete  idealist  and  gives  up  the  idea  of  extra-mental  reality 
altogether.  The  depressing  influence  of  Kant’s  criticism  was 
felt  to  the  full  by  Heinrich  von  Kleist — Nietzsche  quotes  a 
moving  passage  from  him.^  He  himself,  however,  escaped  it  by 
the  help  of  Schopenhauer.  Ultimate  reality  proved,  indeed,  to 
be  very  different  from  what  he  had  been  brought  up  to  believe, 
but  he  could  at  least  make  out  its  outline,  could  see  his  own 
place  in  the  general  framework  and  find  a meaning  for  his  life. 
To  quote  the  substance  of  his  language,  Schopenhauer  was  a 
guide  to  lead  him  from  skeptical  depression  and  criticising 
renunciation  up  to  the  heights  of  the  tragic  view,  with  the 
heavens  and  unnumbered  stars  overhead;  once  more  he  ob- 
tained the  sense  of  life  as  a whole  and  learned  where  consolation 
was  to  be  found  for  one’s  individual  limitations  and  pain, 
namely,  in  sacrificing  egoism  and  surrendering  oneself  to  noble 
aims,  above  all  those  of  justice  and  pity.^ 

I need  not  here  repeat  the  fundamental  propositions  of 
Schopenhauer’s  metaphysics  which  Nietzsche  adopted.®  The 
reality  lying  back  of  the  world  of  sensations,  and  also  of  our- 
selves (to  the  extent  we  are  distinguishable  from  sensations), 
is  will — one  will,  indeed,  since  space  and  time,  the  conditions 
of  multiplicity,  are  regarded  as  subjective  forms.'’  The  will 
simply  appears  in  many  objects,  simply  appears  in  the  form 
of  many  wills — change,  alternate  life  and  death,  the  general 
evanescence  of  things  are  all  but  appearance.  The  view 
had  so  far  a consoling  and  elevating  effect  on  Nietzsche : 
as  against  the  whole  realm  of  the  transitory  and  fugitive, 
he  was  able  to  assert  an  abiding,  eternal  energy  that 
was  real.®  But  how,  it  may  be  asked,  under  ultimate  con- 
ditions such  as  these  do  appearances  ever  arise?  How  does  it 
come  to  pass  that  the  Primal  Unity  {das  Ur-Eine)  gives  birth 
to  them?  At  this  point  Nietzsche  is  speculative  and  venture- 
some even  beyond  his  master,  who  had  only  spoken  vaguely  of 
a fall  (Abfall),  and  developes  a view  which  stands  in  marked 
contrast  to  theistic,  or  at  least  Christian,  metaphysics.  He 
premises  that  the  Primal  Will,  like  its  human  counterpart,  of 
which  it  is  indeed  only  the  inmost  essence,  is  a striving  will, 
that  is,  something  unsatisfied,  something  that  suffers.  The  dis- 

^ Ibid.,  sect.  3. 


’ “ Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  3. 


ULTIMATE  ANALYSIS  OF  THE  WORLD 


47 


satisfaction  and  suffering  ar§  that  which  urge  it  on,®  Schopen- 
hauer once  tells  of  the  way  in  which  as  a youth  he  had  sought 
now  and  then  to  look  at  himself  and  his  doings  as  things  apart 
from  him,  to  make  a picture  of  them — he  supposes  with  the  idea 
of  finding  them  more  enjoyable ; ® perhaps  the  experience  has 
not  been  his  alone.  Well,  Nietzsche  dares  suggest  that  the 
World-Will  is  in  an  essentially  similar  situation,  that  it  too  is 
led  to  make  a picture,  an  object  of  itself,  to  thus  project  itself  in 
the  form  of  a vision  or  dream — and  that  it  is  this  vision  or 
dream  which  we  and  the  world  are.  We  and  the  world  are  the 
Eternal  One,  only  not  as  he  exists  in  himself,  but  as  spread  out 
in  space  and  time  for  his  contemplation — for  all  objectification 
requires  these  forms,  at  least  the  form  of  space,  as  a condition. 
“In  the  dream  of  the  God,  we  are  figures  who  divine  what  he 
dreams.”  And  yet  because  the  vision  is  a result,  is  ever  being 
projected  and  never  is,  a certain  inconstancy  and  change  belong 
to  the  world’s  essential  nature — it  and  all  its  parts  are  ever 
arising,  ever  passing  away,  ever  freshly  arising;  there  is  birth, 
death,  rebirth  in  it  without  end,^ 

A fanciful  metaphysics,  we  say,  and  Nietzsche  himself 
thought  so  later — and  yet,  perhaps,  not  much  more  fanciful  than 
some  other  species  of  the  genus.  It  has  points  of  contact  with 
Fichte’s — the  World-Will  might  be  called  an  Absolute  Ego  who 
creates  all  things  out  of  himself;  and  yet  it  is  essentially 
different  from  Fichte’s,  or  any  moral  metaphysics,  and  for 
something  at  all  like  it  we  may  have  to  go  back  as  far  as 
Heraclitus.  It  might  be  described  as  an  aesthetic  metaphysics 
(Nietzsche  spoke  of  it  afterward  as  an  Artisten-Meta- 
physik)J  The  world  is  there  because  of  an  aesthetic  need  of 
its  creator;  and  the  way  in  which  we  in  turn  must  justify  it 
(if  we  justify  it  at  all)  is  by  conceiving  of  it  aesthetically, 
converting  it  into  a picture  ourselves,  repeating  thus  in  principle 
the  act  of  its  creator,  experiencing  anew  his  pain  and  his 
creative  joy.®  For  we  cannot  give  a rational  justification  to  the 
world — it  did  not  originate  in  reason  and  shows  no  rational 

' Cf.  The  Birth  of  Tragedy,  sects.  4,  5;  Werke,  IX,  153;  also  a later 
reference  to  the  early  view  in  Zarathustra,  I,  iii. 

'Schopenhauer’s  Werke  (Frauenstadt  ed. ),  III,  425. 

’ “ Attempt  at  Self-Criticism,”  § 5,  prefixed  to  later  editions  of  The 
Birth  of  Tragedy. 


48 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


order  in  its  ceaseless  play  of  change  and  destruction.  As  little 
can  we  give  it  a moral  justification — life  lives  off  life,  immorality 
is  an  essential  part  of  its  constitution.  But  take  it  as  an 
aesthetic  phenomenon,  look  at  it  as  a picture,  and  you  may  see 
some  sense  in  it.  Regard  its  creator  not  as  a Supreme  Reason 
or  a Moral  Governor,  but  as  a supreme  Artist,  and  you  get  some 
real  insight  into  its  make-up.  For  the  world  is  a kind  of  play, 
a ceaseless  producing  and  destroying  like  that  of  a child  making 
and  unmaking  his  piles  of  sand  for  the  pleasure  of  the  game, 
or  that  of  an  artist  who  creates  and  has  ever  to  create  anew. 
In  some  such  way  Heraclitus  seems  to  have  viewed  the  world. 
The  .^on,  the  eternal  child  Zeus,  was  there  at  play,  naii  nai8,oov. 
If,  says  Nietzsche,  Heraclitus  had  been  asked,  why  the  fire  did 
not  remain  fire,  why  it  was  now  fire,  now  water,  now  earth,  he 
could  only  have  answered,  “It  is  a play — don’t  take  it  too 
pathetically,  and  above  all  not  morally ! ” * 

n 

Such  was  one  current  of  Nietzsche’s  thinking.  But  there 
was  another,  perhaps  at  the  start  simply  running  alongside 
of  it,  but  later  becoming  the  main  stream.  This  was  in  the 
direction  of  a renunciation  of  metaphysics  altogether.  The 
turning-point  for  Nietzsche  was  as  to  whether  there  was  actu- 
ally first-hand  knowledge  of  the  will.  Schopenhauer  had  said 
that  while  in  general  we  know  things  only  as  they  appear,  we 
know  the  will  as  it  is  (or  at  least  as  mediated  through  the  mere 
forms  of  space  and  time) — know  it  immediately,  by  direct  self- 
feeling.  But  Nietzsche  becomes  more  and  more  dubious  on  this 
point.  He  asks  whether  it  is  not  mere  ideas,  pictures  {Vorstell- 
ungen),  which  we  have  here  as  everywhere  else.  He  thinks 
that  when  we  look  closely  within  us,  we  realize  that  the  life  of 
our  impulses,  the  play  of  our  feelings,  affects,  acts  of  will,  is 
known  to  us  only  through  pictures  which  we  form  of  them, 
not  in  their  own  nature.®  He  hesitates  when  he  comes  to  pain, 
but  he  concludes  that  here  too  we  have  only  an  image.^®  * Hence 
we  have  direct  knowledge  of  reality  nowhere.  Schopenhauer’s 

® “ Pliilosophy  in  the  Tragic  Period  of  the  Greeks,”  sect.  7.  Cf.  a 
iater  reference,  Will  to  Power,  § 797. 

“ Werke,  IX,  214;  cf.  XII,  25,  §43. 

'Ubid.,  IX,  189,  § 129;  cf.  p.  197. 


ULTIMATE  ANALYSIS  OF  THE  WORLD 


49 


“will,”  while  it  may  be  more  elementary  than  other  phenomena, 
is  still  phenomenal,  “the  most  general  phenomenal  form  of 
something  that  is  otherwise  entirely  undecipherable.  ’ ’ “ 

Thus  the  basis  for  a metaphysical  construction  fails  altogether, 
and  Nietzsche  really  falls  back  into  the  purely  negative  attitude 
that  is  the  outcome  of  Kant’s  criticism,  from  which  Schopen- 
hauer had  temporarily  delivered  him.  It  is  likely  that  some 
time  was  required  for  this  anti-metaphysical  attitude  to  establish 
itself  definitively.  He  had  read  as  a student  at  Leipzig  Lange’s 
History  of  Materialism. — read  it  twice  over,  and  thoroughly 
absorbed  its  leading  ideas.  One  of  the  characteristic  points  of 
view  of  this  remarkable  book  is  that,  granting  that  man  cannot 
know  ultimate  reality,  he  may  lawfully  exercise  his  imagination 
upon  it  in  order  to  satisfy  the  needs  of  his  heart  {Gerniith)  — 
may  poetize  about  it.  We  find  Nietzsche  sometimes  speaking 
of  philosophy,  accordingly,  as  art  rather  than  knowledge,  as 
kindred  to  poetry  and  religion.  The  essentially  Sehopenhauerian 
metaphysics,  which  has  just  been  described,  may  have  been  held 
by  him  as  poetry  in  this  way,  after  he  had  ceased  to  believe 
in  it  literally — as  philosophers  sometimes  do  now  with  the 
religious  beliefs  of  their  youth.  There  is  a fragment  belonging 
to  this  time,  entitled  “Critique  of  the  Sehopenhauerian  phi- 
losophy,” in  which,  after  asserting  that  Schopenhauer  as  little 
as  his  predecessors  had  reached  the  final  reality  of  things,  he 
says  that  his  system  has  the  value  of  a poetic  intuition  rather 
than  of  a logical  argumentation.’  Indeed,  it  is  possible  to  hold 
that  Nietzsche  never  took  the  Sehopenhauerian  metaphysics 
literally,  and  that  his  special  variety  of  it,  Artisten-Meta- 
physik,  was  but  a poetic  play.  The  question  is  one  of  literary 
interpretation.  The  probability  seems  to  me  to  be  that  he 
cherished  the  belief  originally  and  then  felt  obliged  to  modify 
it,  and  at  last  to  give  it  up  altogether.'"  In  the  succeeding 
period  of  his  life  we  do  not  hear  of  it  even  as  poetry. 

Ill 

In  turning  away  from  metaphysics  proper,  Nietzsche  de- 
velopes  interesting,  if  not  absolutely  novel,  views  of  the  sensible 

IX,  214.  Cf.  ibid.,  IX,  108,  § 65;  204,  § 147;  194,  § 137  (“the 
whole  world  is  phenomenon,  through  and  through,  atom  on  atom,  without 
interval  . 


50 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


world  They  look  in  the  direction  of  an  extreme  phe- 

nomenalism— one  might  almost  call  them,  in  contrast  with  our 
common-sense  realistic  views,  illusionism. 

What  is  the  relation  of  a sensation,  say  a color  sensation,  to 
the  object  that  calls  it  forth?  Nietzsche  occupies  himself  much 
with  the  question.  He  does  not  doubt  that  there  is  an  object, 
i.e.,  something  or  other  which  exists  independently  of  ourselves 
— his  question  is  simply,  does  the  sensation  reveal  it,  present  it 
as  it  is?  His  reasoning  is  somewhat  as  follows:  Mediately,  we 
have  a certain  stimulation  of  the  nerve-centers ; when  this 
has  taken  place,  somehow  the  sensation,  color,  arises.  No  one 
supposes  that  the  color  has  any  special  resemblance  to  the  brain- 
tremors  that  occasion  it — what  reason,  then,  is  there  for  sup- 
posing that  it  resembles  the  still  more  remote  inciting  cause  ?^ 
We  give  the  sensation  a name,  i.e,,  we  describe  it  to  ourselves 
or  to  one  another  by  a certain  sound,  but  what  resemblance  has 
a sound  to  an  actual  color?  The  two  things  belong  to  disparate 
spheres — all  we  can  say  is  that  the  sound  is  a sign,  symbol,  or 
metaphor  for  the  color.  But  if  this  is  so,  why  may  not  the 
S,»^color  itself  be  a sign,  symbol,  or  metaphor  for  the  ultimate 
//  object  rather  than  anything  else — these  two  things  also  belong- 
ing to  disparate  spheres  ? “ Sometimes  we  imagine  that  we 
come  nearer  objective  truth,  when  instead  of  mere  sensations 
of  things  we  form  concepts  of  them — we  think  that  we  thus 
f leave  aside  their  secondary  and  accidental  features  and  reach 
their  real  essence.  But  what  is  a concept?  It  is  something  we 
form  when,  taking  a number  of  comparatively  like  experiences — 
sensible  or  sensational  experiences  in  this  case — we  fasten  our 
attention  on  their  points  of  resemblance,  leave  out  of  account 
their  differences,  and  make  the  resemblances  stand  out  as  a 
quasi-whole  by  themselves;  this  then  we  say  they  all  share  in 
alike,  this  is  their  essential  idea  and  the  essential  being  of  each 
/ particular  one.  But  is  this  being  or  idea  anything  that  goes 
back  of  the  experiences  and  explains  them?  Is  it  not  itself 

“Some  of  them  appear  in  the  fragment,  “On  Truth  and  Falsehood 
in  the  Extra-moral  Sense”  (Werke,  X,  189-207);  statements  in  the  text 
are  based  on  this,  when  not  credited  to  other  sources. 

“Nietzsche  here  uses  the  customary  physiological  datum — as  to  the 
qualifications  needed  from  a more  ultimate  point  of  view,  see  note  b to 
this  chapter  (at  the  end  of  the  book). 


ULTIMATE  ANALYSIS  OF  THE  WORLD 


51 


something  sensational  in  nature,  though  the  sensations  are  now 
pictured,  thought,  rather  than  immediately  felt? — is  it  more 
than  an  attenuated  schema  of  them?  Yet  if  this  is  so,  how  do 
concepts  bring  us  in  the  slightest  degree  nearer  the  objective 
reality  of  which  we  are  in  search?  So  far  as  they  are  related 
to  it,  is  it  not  a poorer,  more  beggarly  relation  than  the  indi- 
vidual sensible  experience  itself,  since  they  are  constituted  just 
by  leaving  all  that  made  the  experience  individual  and  distinct 
out  of  account? 

What  then  does  our  so-called  knowing  amount  to  ? To  speak 
of  literal  correctness,  as  of  a picture  to  its  original,  is  out  of 
the  question.  “First  a nervous  stimulus  turned  into  an  image 
[e.g.,  a color].  Metaphor  number  one.  Then  the  image  trans- 
formed into  a sound.  Metaphor  number  two.  And  each  time, 
a complete  leaping  from  one  sphere  into  an  entirely  different 
one.”  “We  think  that  we  know  something  about  things,  when 
we  speak  of  trees,  colors,  snow,  and  flowers,  and  in  truth  we 
have  nothing  but  metaphors  which  have  no  correspondence 
whatever  to  the  original  realities.”  As  for  a concept,  it  is  little 
better  than  a “residuum”  of  a metaphor — it  is  more  a skeleton 
or  a ghost,  than  a real  thing;  once  Nietzsche  describes  it  as  the 
“burial  place”  of  the  living  experience.  Of  course,  the  various 
concepts  in  which  the  varied  experiences  of  men  are  summed  up, 
may  be  put  in  order,  and  they  may  make  an  imposing  array, 
but  it  is  the  array  of  a “Roman  columbarium.”  [One  thinks 
involuntarily,  or,  shall  I say  ? maliciously,  of  a Logic  like 
Hegel ’s.”] 

In  other  words,  and  speaking  perhaps  with  offensive  plain- 
ness, our  “knowledge”  is  illusion,  falsehood.  We  stand  in  an 
essentially  aesthetic  relation  rather  than  any  other  to  reality — 
we  are  primarily  poets,  builders,  creators.  Nietzsche  sometimes 
uses  the  word  “falsehood”  {Liige),  sometimes  “play”  (Spiel) 
— the  thought  in  both  expressions  is  the  same.^*  Our  “truth” 
is  a “mobile  throng  of  metaphors,  metonymies,  anthropo- 
morphisms, in  short  a lot  of  human  relations  which  have  been 
poetically  and  rhetorically  heightened,  translated,  adorned,  and 

R.  M.  Meyer  remarks  that  Nietzsche’s  use  of  the  word  Liige  recalls 
one  of  Herder’s  “ genialsten  ” writings,  “ Ueher  die  dem  Menschen  ange- 
horene  Liige.” 


52 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


after  long  use  seem  to  a people  fixed,  canonical,  and  binding: 
truths  are  illusions,  the  origin  and  nature  of  which  have  been 
forgotten,  metaphors  that  have  no  longer  the  moving  effect  of 
metaphors,  coins  that  have  lost  their  image  and  superscription 
and  now  are  looked  upon  as  metal,  no  more  as  coin.”  Concepts 
have,  if  not  their  mother,  then  their  grandmother,  in  these 
illusory  images.  Even  “being,”  which  Nietzsche  thinks  orig- 
inally meant  “breathing,”  comes  from  a metaphor.^^  We  do 
not  even  know  the  real  nature  of  our  own  bodies,  nature  “has 
thrown  the  key  away” — we  only  play  or  fumble  on  the  surface 
of  things  here  as  everywhere  else. 

IV 

What  then  is  the  human  intellect  for,  if  truth  is  beyond  its 
power?  Nietzsche’s  answer  in  brief  is  that  it  is  to  give  us  prac- 
tical guidance  in  life.  It  is  a useful  tool  to  this  end;  it  did 
not  arise  to  serve  theoretic  purposes.  It  observes  how  things 
affect  us,  noting  particularly  whether  they  harm  or  help  us, 
and  draws  up  from  this  very  personal  angle  of  vision  a picture 
or  scheme  of  things,  by  the  help  of  which  we  can  thread  our 
way  through  life’s  mazes  a little  more  assuredly — conceptualiz- 
ing and  logicizing  the  material,  so  that  we  may  handle  it  more 
easily.  There  would  be  nothing  to  say  against  this  pictured, 
logicized  world,  did  we  not  proceed  to  take  it  for  what  it  is  not. 
We  think  that  it  is  something  independent  of  us,  something 
that  would  be  here  in  all  its  particulars  just  the  same  whether 
we  were  here  or  not.  Color,  sound,  sweet  and  sour,  hard  and 
soft,  heavy  and  light,  we  think  that  we  simply  find, — that  we 
have  no  hand  in  constituting  them.  I have  known  people  to 
grow  angry  when  it  was  suggested  that  a sound  they  hear  is 
not  something  altogether  apart  from  them — so  instinctive  has 
the  view  become.  That  is,  we  believe  what  is  not  true,  we  are 
deceived.  It  is  not  deception  that  is  practised  upon  us — we 
deceive  ourselves;  ultimately  it  is  the  intellect  that  is  the  de- 
ceiving party.  It  does  its  work  so  thoroughly  that  we  are  not 
aware,  unless  we  critically  examine  ourselves,  that  there  is  any  - 
deception  in  the  matter. 

What  conclusion  is  to  be  drawn  ? Is  the  deception  therefore 
'““Philosophy  in  the  Tragic  Period  etc.,”  sect.  11. 


ULTIMATE  ANALYSIS  OF  THE  WORLD  53 

to  be  rejected  ? By  no  means.  The  intellect  has  worked  in  the  j 
interests  of  life.  It  is  easier  for  men  to  live,  when  they  project 
their  experience  outside  themselves;  they  feel  that  they  have 
thereby  something  to  steady  themselves  by  and  to  lean  upon,  i 
Indeed,  a tendency  to  deception  exists  more  or  less  in  life  in 
general.  We  have  all  heard  of  the  various  protective  devices 
of  the  lower  forms  of  life ; sometimes  they  are  the  finest  forms 
of  defense,  and  quite  take  the  place  of  weapons  like  horns  or“”^ 
poisonous  fangs.  But  the  most  perfect  kind  of  deception  would 
be  that  practised  by  a being  on  itself, — the  real  nature  of  the 
process  being  either  unrealized,  or  if  realized,  soon  obscured  to 
the  mind.  This  is  the  deception  which  man  practises  on  himself 
in  relation  to  the  sensible  and  conceptual  world.  It  is  all  in 
the  interests  of  life — most  men  could  hardly  live  without  it; 
and  it  has  as  much  right  to-  be  as  truth — indeed  more  right 
to  be,  in  the  particular  circumstances  envisaged.  Illusion,  de- 
ception, as  part  of  the  life-process  and  legitimate — such  is 
Nietzsche’s  point  of  view  at  the  present  time:  argument  to  this 
effect  makes  the  substance  of  the  pregnant  fragment,  “On 
Truth  and  Falsehood  in  the  Extra-moral  [i.e.,  theoretic] 
Sense.”  “ 

Indeed  he  has  now  such  a sense  of  the  function  of  illusion 
in  the  world,  that  he  defends  it  in  connections  where  many  of 
us  would  feel  the  sole  imperative  of  truth.  For  example,  in 
discussing  the  use  and  harm  of  history  for  life,  he  questions 
the  benefit  for  men  in  general  of  pushing  historical  study  to  its 
last  extremes.  If  reality  is  made  to  stand  out  in  all  its  naked- 
ness, if  illusions  are  totally  banished,  reverence  and  the  power 
of  joyful  activity  suffer.  He  has  in  mind  particularly  the 
study  of  religious  origins.  He  speaks  of  the  dissolving  influ- 
ence of  the  new  historical  theology — here  is  perhaps  a sub- 
sidiary reason  for  the  attack  on  Strauss.  A religion  that  is 
turned  into  a piece  of  historical  knowledge  simply  is,  he  thinks, 
at  the  end  of  its  way.  A loving  constructive  spirit  should  go 
along  with  all  destruction.  He  is  even  critical  toward  modern 
science  in  the  same  spirit.  The  doctrines  of  change  as  a sov- 
ereign law,  of  the  fluidity  of  all  types  and  species,  of  the 
absence  of  all  cardinal  distinction  between  man  and  animal,  he 
calls  “true,  but  deadly and  he  thinks  that  life  ruled  by 


54. 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


science  may  possibly  be  far  less  life  and  far  less  assured  of  the 
future,  than  life  controlled  by  instincts  and  powerful  illusions. 
If  it  came  to  the  worst,  if  a choice  had  to  be  made  between 
knowledge  at  the  expense  of  life  and  life  at  the  expense  of 
knowledge,  he  would  not  hesitate  to  give  life  the  higher  place — 
a knowledge  that  worked  destructively  on  life  would  indeed 
in  the  end  destroy  itself.*® 

The  foregoing  considerations  relate  to  truth  in  the  theoretic 
sense.  Truth  in  the  moral  sense  is  a different  matter.  Its 
origin  is  utility.  Men  live  in  society — have  to,  to  live  at  all. 
They  must  then  understand  one  another ; to  this  extent  at  least 
they  must  put  an  end  to  the  belhim  omnium  contra  omnes. 
That  is,  they  must  use  words  in  the  same  senses.  When  one 
person  says  “green”  or  “loud”  or  “cow”  or  “horse,”  he  must 
mean  what  others  mean  by  the  same  words.  To  speak  “truly” 
is  to  agree  with  others,  to  conform  to  the  general  conventions. 
Language  gave  the  first  laws  of  truth ; here  the  contrast  between 
truth  and  falsehood  first  arose.  But  the  conventions  of  speech 
have  little  or  nothing  to  do  with  truth  in  the  sense  first  men- 
tioned— they  had  their  origin  in  other  than  theoretic  considera- 
tions. Speaking  “truly”  to  one’s  fellow-man  involves  nothing 
as  to  giving  a true,  i.e.,  faithfully  objective,  report  of  things. 
German  speech  attributes  a male  gender  to  the  tree  and  a female 
gender  to  the  plant — how  unwarrantable  to  draw  theoretic  con- 
clusions therefrom ! In  fact  truth  in  the  moral  (social)  sense 
is  entirely  compatible  with  falsehood  in  the  other  sense;  it 
means  nothing  more  than  that  one  faithfully  uses  the  cus- 
tomary metaphors,  i.e.  (speaking  now  in  more  ultimate  terms), 
that  one  falsifies  as  the  flock  does  in  a way  recognized  as  binding 
upon  all. 

Yes,  the  needs  of  the  flock  not  only  cover  up  theoretic  false- 
hood of  the  sort  described,  but  they  breed,  or  have  bred,  illusions 
on  their  own  account.  I have  just  used  the  phrase  “binding 
upon  all.”  But  anything  “binding”  naturally  brings  along 
with  it  the  idea  that  those  who  are  bound  can  heed  the  obliga- 
tion, that  it  is  in  their  power  to  comply  with  it,  whether  they 
actually  do  or  not — and  this  idea,  when  further  developed  and 
connected  with  obedience  to  the  standards  of  the  flock  in  gen- 
“The  Use  and  Harm  of  History  for  Life,”  sects.  7,  9,  10. 


ULTIMATE  ANALYSIS  OF  THE  WORLD 


55 


eral,  becomes  the  notion  of  free-will  and  responsibility,  which 
plays  so  large  a part  in  the  spiritual  economy  of  early  com- 
munities. Free-will  is  an  illusory  notion  to  Nietzsche,  and 
indeed  to  most  thinkers  of  the  first  rank  in  recent  times 
(William  James  being  a rare  and  brilliant  exception),  yet 
society  for  its  successful  working  had  to  proceed  as  if  it  were 
true.  On  the  basis  of  it  praise  and  blame,  reward  and  punish- 
ment were  distributed  and  men’s  characters  shaped  (to  the 
extent  they  were  shaped  at  all),  men’s  own  efforts  for  the 
better  going  on  the  assumption  of  its  truth  also.  When  Nietz- 
sche speaks  of  morality  as  necessary  falsehood  {Nothluge),  and 
says  that  without  the  errors  connected  with  it  man  would  have 
remained  on  the  animal  level,  he  has  this  error  particularly  in 
mind.” 

The  field  of  illusion  is  thus  wide,  and  the  question  may  be 
raised.  What  matters  it?  If  men  have  ideas  to  live  by,  and 
perhaps  grow  better  by,  is  that  not  enough?  Well,  perhaps  it 
is  enough  for  most  of  us — we  have  no  impulses  urging  us  to  go 
further,  and  if  we  had  them,  should  perhaps  only  perplex  our- 
selves needlessly  in  yielding  to  them,  since  we  have  scarcely  the 
leisure  or  the  ability  to  push  our  inquiries  to  a finish.®^  But 
there  are  others  who  have  imperious  needs  in  this  direction — 
they  must  ask  questions,  and  irrespective  of  any  assurance 
that  they  can  live  by  the  truth  they  find:  in  short,  they 
have  the  philosophical  impulse.  Now,  whether  for  his  weal  or 
woe,  Nietzsche  belonged  to  the  latter  class — and  the  only  wonder 
is  how  he  could  have  the  impulse,  consistently  with  his  theory 
of  the  origin  and  purpose  of  the  intellect  which  has  just  been 
referred  to.  There  is  the  same  difficulty  for  us  in  studying  Scho- 
penhauer, whose  view  here  Nietzsche  repeats  (on  which  I have 
commented  elsewhere).^®  In  almost  every  direction  we  find  him 
seeking  the  true,  irrespective  of  any  advantage  to  be  gained,  save 
the  satisfaction  of  the  knowing  impulse  itself.  Particularly  does 
he  wrestle — twist  and  turn — in  trying  to  make  out  the  truth  as 
to  the  external  world.  We  find  him,  for  instance,  considering 

” The  view  is  more  distinctly  stated  in  the  writings  of  the  second 
period  (cf.  Human,  All-too-Human,  §40;  The  Wanderer  and  his  Shadow, 
§ 12),  but  it  was  of  earlier  formation  (cf.  WerJce,  IX,  188,  § 129). 

Article  on  “ Schopenhauer’s  Contact  with  Pragmatism,”  in  the 
Philosophical  Review,  March,  1910  (see  pp.  140-4). 


56 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


the  fact  that  a certain  sensation  or  image  always  follows  a certain 
stimulus,  that  this  may  hold  of  one  generation  after  another, 
that  it  may  be  true  of  all  mankind — it  may  seem  conclusive  proof 
that  the  image  faithfully  represents  the  object  it  stands  for ; and 
yet  he  is  forced  to  ask  whether  a metaphor  ceases  to  be  a metaphor 
because  it  is  indefinitely  repeated,  and  whether,  for  all  that  men 
agree  so  widely  in  using  it,  it  is  the  only  possible  metaphor  in 
the  circumstances.  He  considers  also  the  argument  from  the 
omnipresence  and  unvarying  character  of  the  laws  of  nature, 
namely,  that  since  everything  in  the  world,  no  matter  how  great 
or  how  small,  is  fixed,  certain,  law-abiding,  fantasy  can  have 
nothing  to  do  with  it,  since  if  it  had,  the  marks  of  its  arbitrary 
hand  would  be  somewhere  discernible.  He  admits  the  plausi- 
bility of  the  argument,  and  yet  suppose,  he  says,  that  we  could 
experience  variously,  each  of  us  having  our  own  type  of  sensa- 
tion, or  suppose  that  we  could  perceive  now  as  a bird  does  and 
now  as  a worm  and  now  as  a plant,  or  that  where  one  responded 
to  a stimulus  with  “red,”  another  did  with  “blue”  and  still 
another  with  a sound,  how  then — where  then  would  the  uni- 
formity and  law-abidingness  of  nature  be  ? '*  Would  there  not 
be  a variety  of  worlds — and  where  would  be  the  world?  Is  it 
a wonder  that  beings  of  one  physiological  type  have  one  type 
of  world,  and  does  the  present  uniform  common  world  prove 
more  than  that  we  human  beings  are  of  one  type?  Does  it  in 
the  least  prove  that  our  responses  to  stimuli  are  the  right  re- 
sponses, i.e.,  rightly  represent  the  object?  Indeed,  what  is  the 
meaning  of  “right”  {richtig)  in  such  a connection? — since  we 
have  no  originals  with  which  to  compare  them.  In  going  from 
object  to  subject,  we  pass,  for  all  we  know,  from  one  sphere  of 
being  to  another,  and  there  is  as  little  propriety  in  speaking  of 
a right  sensation  or  image,  as  of  a right  sound  for  a color — we 
cannot  go  beyond  symbols,  metaphors  under  such  conditions. 
All  sensations  and  images,  no  matter  how  varying  or  even  con- 
tradictory they  might  be,  may  be  right  for  the  type  that  makes 
them,  i.e.,  may  serve  its  special  life-needs,  and  none  be  right 
in  any  final  sense.  Moreover,  the  fixity  and  order  of  things  in 
our  world  are  a fixity  and  order  in  space  and  time,  and  Nietzsche 
holds  now  (after  Kant  and  Schopenhauer)  that  these  are  not 
independent  realities,  but  forms  of  our  own  minds — no  wonder 


ULTIMATE  ANALYSIS  OF  THE  WORLD 


67 


then  that  things  appear  more  or  less  definitely  here  and  there, 
now  and  then;  how  otherwise  could  they  appear  at  all?  Un- 
questionably there  is  a spatial  and  temporal  order,  but  we  our- 
selves bring  the  ideas  to  things  that  make  the  order  possible.^® 

V 

The  outcome  of  all  this  criticism  is,  so  far  as  the  question 
of  ultimate  truth  goes,  purely  negative.  At  least,  after  becoming 
skeptical  in  regard  to  Schopenhauer’s  view  that  we  have  a real, 
first-hand  knowledge  of  ourselves  as  will,  Nietzsche  is  unable' 
to  advance  any  positive  idea  of  reality  at  all.  All  that  we  are 
accustomed  to  call  by  this  name  is  appearance,  illusion.  And 
yet  a tentative  speculation  he  does  venture  upon.  It  is  a kind 
of  panpsychism.  We  know  indeed  only  our  own  sensations  and 
thoughts  and  feelings — but  what  if  the  whole  world  is  of  this 
nature?  May  not  the  things  outside  us  [Nietzsche  never  doubts 
that  there  are  such  things — he  is  never  solipsist  or  thoroughgoing 
idealist]  be  themselves  in  some  sense  “centers  of  sensation”? 
Even  so  they  might  affect  one  another  (each  being  conceived 
as  a spring  of  energy).  They  might  get  habits  by  acting  and 
reacting  (ultimately  from  motives  of  pleasure  and  pain).  They 
might  even  be  called  will.  Causality  is  perhaps  an  idea  formed 
from  the  action  of  the  will,  particularly  as  it  reacts  to  stimuli.. 
Space  and  time  in  turn  hang  on  causality.  And  so  might  arise 
in  general  the  sort  of  world  we  know.^“  It  is  entirely  a specu- 
lation— and  confused  and  fragmentary  at  that;  but  perhaps  it 
should  be  mentioned  in  qualification  of  the  sweeping  negative 
language  which  I have  just  used.  In  some  ways  it  is  similar  to 
a view  which  we  shall  find  developed  at  length  in  the  latter 
part  of  his  life. 

This  paragraph,  too,  bases  itself  on  the  fragment,  “On  Truth  and 
Falsehood  in  the  Extra-moral  Sense.” 

““  Werke,  X,  150-4. 


CHAPTER  VI 


ETHICAL  VIEWS 

I 

Like  Nietzsche’s  first  metaphysics,  his  first  ethical  views  reveal 
the  influence  of  Schopenhauer.  In  general,  the  order  of  the 
world,  including  that  of  human  life,  cannot  be  changed.  It  is 
not  founded  on  reason,  and  is  but  slightly  accessible  to  rational 
influence.  The  old  rationalism  effectually  came  to  an  end  with 
Kant  and  Schopenhauer,  who  demonstrated  the  unsurpassable 
limits  of  theoretic  curiosity,  and  begot  anew  the  sense  of  the 
fundamental  mysteriousness  of  things.  A certain  deep  resig- 
nation is  the  practical  consequence,  a certain  frank  facing  and 
acceptance  of  reality  in  all  its  forms,  including  those  which 
are  terrible.  Instead  of  science,  thinking  that  it  can  find  the 
cause  of  all  ills  and  so  can  remedy  them,  wisdom  becomes  the 
goal — wisdom,  which  refusing  to  be  seduced  by  the  specious 
promises  of  the  sciences,  looks  unmoved  on  the  world  as  a whole, 
and  by  sympathy  and  love  seeks  to  make  the  eternal  suffering 
it  finds  there  its  own.  This  is  the  atmosphere  favorable  to 
the  rise  of  a new  and  tragic  type  of  culture,  similar  to  that 
which  existed  among  the  Greeks  before  Socrates  and  Euripides 
exercised  their  rationalizing  influence.^ 

But  because  the  broad  features  of  the  human  lot  cannot  be 
changed,  it  does  not  follow  that  things  may  not  be  better  than 
they  are,  that  there  is  not  something  which  man  may  strive 
for.  At  bottom  Nietzsche  was  of  idealistic  temperament,  and 
though  this  did  not  distort  his  vision  of  reality,  it  kept  him 
from  relapsing  into  quietism.  He  felt  indeed  that  the  weightiest 
question  of  philosophy  was  just  how  far  the  realm  of  the  un- 
changeable extended,  so  that  knowing  this  we  might  set  out  to 
improve  the  changeable  side  of  things  with  all  the  courage  at 
our  command.^  We  may  not  be  able  to  do  much,  and  may 
easily  be  depressed,  but  neither  becoming  rich  nor  honored  nor 

^ Birth  of  Tragedy,  sect.  18;  cf.  sects.  14,  15,  17,  19. 

’ “ Richard  Wagner  in  Bayreuth,”  sect.  3. 

68 


ETHICAL  VIEWS 


59 


learned  will  lift  us  out  of  our  depression,  and  the  only  sense 
in  striving  in  these  directions  is  to  win  power,  whereby  we 
may  come  to  the  help  of  nature  and  correct  a little  her  foolish 
and  clumsy  ways.^  ^ 

What  then  can  we  do?  What  shall  be  our  aim?  Nietzsche’s 
idealistic  temper  is  plentifully  in  evidence  in  the  way  he  gives 
his  answer.  We  do  not  get  our  aim,  he  says,  by  studying  his- 
tory, science,  or  circumstances  now  existing.  In  this  way  we 
acquaint  ourselves  with  facts:  but  ethics  is  a question  of  our 
attitude  to  facts,  of  the  way  in  which  we  shall  confront  them. 
He  does  not  like  his  historical  generation,  which  wishes  only 
to  be  “objective,”  which  does  not  know  how  to  love  or  hate, 
and  perhaps,  as  in  Hegel’s  case,  turns  the  historical  process 
itself  into  a semi-divine  affair.  He  thinks  that  Hegel ’s  influence 
was  so  far  harmful  on  German  youth.  One  who  bends  and 
bows  to  the  “power  of  history”  gives  in  the  end  an  obsequious 
“yes,”  Chinese  fashion,  to  every  “power,”  whether  it  be  a 
government  or  a public  opinion  or  a majority  of  heads,  and 
moves  to  the  time  which  the  “power”  sets.  Not  so  morality; 
it  is  not  merely  conceiver  or  interpreter,  but  judge — if  history 
says  what  is  or  was,  it  says  what  should  be  or  should  have  been. 
Raphael  had  to  die  at  the  age  of  thirty-six : was  there  anything 
right  or  rational  in  such  a necessity?  Some  one  was  arguing 
in  Germany  at  the  time,  that  Goethe  at  eighty-two  was  worn 
out,  but  Nietzsche  says  that  for  a couple  of  years  of  the  “worn- 
out”  Goethe  and  of  such  conversations  as  he  had  with  Eeker- 
mann,  he  would  give  whole  wagon-loads  of  men  still  running 
their  careers  and  highly  modern  at  that.  That  the  many  go 
on  living,  while  a few,  such  as  these,  come  to  an  end,  is  nothing 
but  brutal  fact,  stupidity  that  cannot  be  altered — a “so  it  is,” 
over  against  the  moral  demand,  “so  it  should  not  be.”  Yes, 
over  against  morality!  he  reiterates;  for  whatever  the  virtue 
we  have  in  mind,  whether  it  be  justice,  generosity,  courage, 
wisdom,  or  pity,  it  is  virtuous  in  so  far  as  it  rises  against  this 
blind  might  of  facts,  this  tyranny  of  the  actual,  and  subjects 
itself  to  laws  which  are  not  the  laws  of  these  historical  fluctua- 
tions.^ He  reflects  in  a similar  spirit  on  statistics.  “ How, 

* “ Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  3. 

* “ Use  and  Harm  of  History  etc.,”  sect.  8. 


60 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


statistics  prove  that  there  are  laws  in  history?  Laws?  Yes, 
they  prove  how  common  and  pitifully  uniform  the  mass  are: 
are  we  to  call  the  operation  of  gravity,  of  stupidity,  of  blind 
imitation,  of  love,  and  of  hunger,  laws?  Well,  suppose  we  do; 
but  if  so,  it  also  holds  good  that  so  far  as  there  are  laws  in 
history,  the  laws  are  worth  nothing  and  the  history  is  worth 
nothing.”®  Effect,  permanence,  success  are  no  real  argument. 
Christianity  became  “an  historical  power,”  but  it  was  because 
earthly  passions,  errors,  ambitions,  survivals  of  the  imperium 
Romanum,  mingled  with  it,  not  because  of  its  finer  elements, 
and  the  purest  and  truest  disciples  it  has  had  lived  without 
appreciable  results  and  remain  for  the  most  part  unknown  and 
unnamed.  “Demosthenes  had  greatness,  though  he  had  no 
success.”  To  speak  in  Christian  language,  the  Devil  is  the 
ruler  of  this  world  and  the  master  of  results  here — he  is  the 
prime  factor  in  all  the  so-called  “historical  powers,”  however 
unpleasantly  the  remark  may  strike  the  ear  of  those  who  deify 
success  and  baptize  the  Devil  with  a new  name.®  No,  “let  us 
not  expect  of  the  noblest  things  the  toughness  of  leather.” 
Indeed,  not  continuance  at  all,  not  life  and  victory,  but  tragic 
death  may  be  the  highest  thing,  as  we  feel  on  occasion  in  lis- 
tening to  a Greek  tragic  drama.^ 

All  this  may  be  far  from  a complete  statement  of  the  relation 
of  ethics  to  reality  and  the  temporal  order,  but  it  touches  cer- 
tain aspects  of  the  subject,  and  brings  home  to  us  the  impetuous 
earnestness  of  the  young  thinker. 

II 

But  if  our  aim  is  not  given  to  us  from  without,  it  must  be 
born  from  within.  The  fact  is,  we  human  beings  judge  what 
we  see  or  learn — we  face  it  with  certain  requirements.  The 
gist  of  our  requirements  we  call  our  ideal,  and  the  ideal,  so 
far  as  we  make  it  an  end  to  strive  for,  becomes  our  aim.  Nietz- 
sche is  conscious  at  the  present  time  of  no  essential  divergence 
from  customary  morality,  and  the  ideal  he  has  does  not  differ 
from  that  large  vague  ideal  of  good  which  most  of  us  have, 
and  which,  when  we  hypostatize  it,  as  we  commonly  do,  and 


“ Ibid.,  sect.  9. 


“ Ibid.,  sect,  9. 


' Ibid.,  sect.  8. 


ETHICAL  VIEWS 


61 


strip  it  of  limitations,  is  much  the  same  as  the  Divine  or  God. 
It  includes  a justice,  a love,  a wisdom,  a power,  a beauty — in 
short,  a total  perfection — which  are  only  suggested  in  anything 
we  see  or  are.  A distinction  must  be  drawn  between  the  ideal 
and  the  question  of  its  actual  embodiment  anywhere  (e.g.,  in 
a Divine  Being  or  Beings) — also,  between  it  and  the  question 
whether  human  life  and  conduct  can  actually  be  shaped  in 
complete  accordance  with  its  demands.  To  both  these  questions 
Nietzsche  felt  obliged  to  reply  negatively.  We  have  already 
noted  that  he  was  atheist;  and  such  in  his  eyes  was  the  con- 
stitution of  things  that  human  life  and  action  had  to  fall  short 
of  the  ideal,  and  even  to  go  counter  to  it  to  a certain  extent. 
So  little,  however,  does  this  mean  that  he  failed  to  revere  the 
ideal,  that  it  was  in  its  name  that  he,  with  Schopenhauer,  pro- 
nounced the  world  undivine,  and  it  was  because  of  the  sense 
of  a contradiction  between  what  ought  to  be  and  what  is  that 
pain  and  distress  became  so  deep  a part  of  his  lot  as  a thinker. 
There  only  remained  to  make  the  ideal  interpenetrate  reality  to 
the  extent  the  conditions  of  existence  would  allow — and  this 
was  what  his  aim  practically  came  to.  It  was  as  if  he  said,  If 
God  does  not  exist,  let  us  see  how  near  we  can  come  to  him. 
How  truly  this  was  the  substance  of  his  aim,  and  how  strongly 
his  feelings  were  enlisted,  is  manifest  in  an  ejaculation  which 
he  imagines  a disciple  of  culture  making,  and  which,  I take  it, 
is  a self-confession:  “I  see  something  higher  and  more  human 
above  me  than  I myself  am ; help  me  all  to  attain  it,  as  I will 
help  every  one  who  feels  and  suffers  as  I do : in  order  that  at 
last  the  man  may  arise  who  is  full  and  measureless  in  knowl- 
edge and  love  and  vision  and  power,  and  with  his  whole  being 
cleaves  to  nature  and  takes  his  place  in  it  as  judge  and  valuer 
of  things.”®  In  another  connection  he  says,  “For  what  pur- 
pose the  world  exists,  why  humanity  exists,  need  not  for  the 
time  concern  us.  . . . But  why  thou  thyself  art  here,  that 
thou  mayest  ask,  and  if  no  one  else  can  tell  it  thee,  seek  to  give 
a meaning  to  thy  existence  as  it  were  a posteriori,  by  giving 
to  thyself  an  aim,  a goal,  a wherefore,  a high  and  noble  where- 
fore. ” ® To  state  the  aim  more  concretely : since  the  character- 

® “ Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  6. 

* “ Use  and  Harm  of  History  etc.,”  sect.  9. 


62 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


istic  impulses  of  human  nature  are,  as  he  held  with  Schopen- 
hauer, the  theoretic,  the  creative  or  artistic,  and  the  moral — im- 
pulses which  yield,  when  they  come  to  any  sort  of  fruition,  the 
philosopher,  the  artist,  and  the  saint, — the  aim  is  the  production 
in  humanity  of  the  philosopher,  the  artist,  and  the  saint,  and 
not  merely  as  we  sometimes  find  them,  but  in  the  fullness  and 
perfection  of  their  idea.  We  all  have  in  us  that  which  is 
kindred  to  these  types,  and  this  is  why  we  long  for  them,  and, 
as  it  were,  see  ourselves  in  them,  when  any  approximation  to 
them  passes  before  our  eyes.  Yes,  they  are  what  nature  in 
a blind  way  is  groping  after;  they  are  the  final  goal  of  the 
creative  process,  the  delivering,  redeeming  agencies  not  only 
for  us,  but  for  the  World-Will  itself — if  we  intelligently  strive 
for  them,  we  to  this  extent  co-operate  with  nature  and  help  to 
make  up  for  her  shortcomings  and  mistakes.^” 

Such  is  the  perspective  in  which  life  is  seen  by  Nietzsche. 
As  most  of  us  live  it,  it  is  not  its  own  end;  men,  as  we 
ordinarily  find  them,  have  no  great  value  on  their  own  account. 
Striving  simply  for  comfort,  happiness,  success  is  a sorry 
mistake.  Our  lives  have  significance  only  as  they  reach  out 
after  something  beyond  them.  To  speak  of  man’s  dignity 
per  se,  of  his  rights  as  man,  is  to  deceive  ourselves ; he  acquires 
these  only  as  he  serves  something  higher  than  himself,  as  he 
helps  in  the  production  of  the  “genius” — this  being  a common 
term  for  the  philosopher,  the  artist,  and  the  saint.”  Life  as 
ordinarily  lived  is  on  little  more  than  an  animal  level.  Nietz- 
sche draws  a striking  picture  of  what  our  histories  and 
sociologies  reveal  to  us — the  vast  wanderings  back  and  forth 
on  the  earth,  the  building  of  cities  and  states,  the  restless 
accumulating  and  spending,  the  competing  with  one  another, 
the  imitating  of  one  another,  the  outwitting  of  one  another 
and  trampling  on  one  another,  the  cries  in  straits,  and  the 
shouts  of  joy  in  victory:  it  is  all  to  him  a continuation  of  our 
animality,  a senseless  and  oppressive  thing.^^  And  yet  the 
whole  picture  changes  when  he  thinks  of  men  as  animated  by 
an  aim  like  that  which  he  projects.  Then  the  most  ordinary 
and  imperfect  would  gain  significance  and  worth.  Though  still 

“ Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  5.  ” Werke,  IX,  164. 

““Schopenhauer  etc.,  sect.  5. 


ETHICAL  VIEWS 


63 


aware  of  their  imperfection  and  owning  that  nature  had  suc- 
ceeded poorly  in  their  own  case,  they  would  none  the  less 
remember  the  great  end  for  which  she  was  striving,  and,  placing 
themselves  at  her  service,  help  her  to  succeed  better  in  the 
future.^^  Nietzsche  conceives  that  society  might  actually  be 
pervaded  by  an  aim  of  this  character,  that  all  might  unitedly 
project  it;  indeed  he  recognizes  that  only  in  this  way  can  the 
aim  be  accomplished — the  task  being  too  great  for  individuals. 

m 

When  society,  or  a given  society,  is  inspired  in  this  way, 
there  will  come  what  he  calls  a culture — this  being  a general 
term  for  a unity  of  style  in  the  activities,  the  life-expressions, 
of  a people.^^  Existing  societies  have  no  culture  in  this  sense 
(though  the  French  have  had  one) — the  aims  of  men  today 
are  too  haphazard,  criss-cross ; particularly  does  Nietzsche  make 
light  of  the  pretense  of  a German  culture.^®  It  is  not  outward 
forms,  laws,  or  institutions  that  he  has  in  mind,  so  much  as  a 
spirit,  a thought,  a vital  governing  aim.  At  the  same  time  the 
aim  he  proposes  is  not  without  definite  characters.  Not  only 
is  it  contrasted”  with  the  aim  of  making  everybody,  or  as  many 
as  pc^sible,  happy,  but  it  is  also  contrasted  with  the  ambition 
widely  prevalent  now  of  founding  or  furthering  great  com- 
munities (states  or  empires),  which  the  individual  is  to  find  " 
his  supreme  function  in  serving.  The  community  is  not  an 
end  of  itself.  There  is  as  much  dignity  in  serving  an  individual, 
if  he  be  one  of  the  higher  type,  as  in  serving  the  state:  it  is 
not  size,  numbers,  that  determine  value,  but  the  quality  and 
grade  of  being.^®  The  end  of  social  organization  itself  is  to 
facilitate  the  emergence  of  the  higher  type  or  types  of  man. 
The  ideal  community  is  not  one  in  which  the  members  are  on 
a par,  all  in  turn  ends  and  means,  but  one  in  which  the  higher 
types  are  ends  and  the  rest  are  means  to  them.  The  old  idea 
of  service — one-sided  service,  if  you  will — is  thus  introduced. 
The  philosopher,  the  artist,  the  saint  being  the  culmination  of 

Ibid.,  sect.  6. 

“ David  Strauss  etc.,”  sect.  7. 

Ibid.,  sect.  7,  “Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  6,  Werke  (pocket  ed.), 

II,  XXX. 

••“Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  6. 


6i 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


existence,  social  arrangements  and  activity  having  normally  the 
production  or  facilitation  of  them  as  their  ultimate  object,  to 
whatever  extent  they  appear  at  any  given  time,  they  are  to  be 
supremely  considered,  the  rest  of  us  finding  our  highest  function 
in  serving  them,  rather  than  in  serving  ourselves  or  one  another. 
It  must  be  admitted  that  Nietzsche  parts  company  thus  at  the 
start  with  the  humanitarian,  equalitarian,  democratic  ideals 
which  rule  among  us  today.  Once  he  refers  to  the  processes  by 
which  (according  to  the  Darwinian  view)  progress,  the  evolu- 
tion of  higher  species,  has  taken  place  in  the  animal  and  plant 
world.  The  matter  of  critical  moment,  the  starting-point  for 
a further  development  in  a given  species,  has  been  some  unusual 
specimen — some  variation  from  the  average  type,  to  use  Dar- 
win’s term — which  now  and  then  under  favorable  conditions 
arose.  Not  the  average  members  of  the  species  and  their  wel- 
fare, not  those  either  which  came  last  in  point  of  time  and  their 
welfare,  were  of  maximum  importance  or  the  goal  of  the  species’ 
development,  but  just  these  scattering  and  apparently  acci- 
dental specimens  and  their  welfare,  by  means  of  which  the 
transition  to  a new  species  became  possible.  In  the  lower  realms 
the  progress  was  unintended  and  unconscious,  but  the  method 
by  which  it  was  secured  may  be  pursued  in  higher  realms,  and 
just  because  we  human  beings  are  conscious  and  may  have  a 
conscious  aim,  we  may  search  out  and  establish  the  conditions 
favorable  to  the  rise  of  our  higher  specimens  and  not 
leave  them  to  come  by  chance,  and  so  develope  along  the  hu- 
man line  of  progress  in  an  unprecedented  manner.  Schopen- 
hauer had  said,  “Humanity  should  labor  continually  to  produce 
individual  great  men — and  this  and  nothing  else  is  its  task,” 
and  Nietzsche  now  repeats  it  after  him.  Still  more  definitely, 
“How  does  thy  individual  life  receive  its  highest  value,  its 
deepest  significance?  Surely  only  in  that  thou  livest  to  the 
advantage  of  the  rarest  and  most  valuable  specimens  of  thy 
kind,  not  to  that  of  the  most  numerous,  i.e.,  taken  singly,  least 
valuable  specimens.  ” 

The  classifying  of  men  as  ends  and  means  is  not,  however, 
a part  of  Nietzsche’s  ideal  itself,  but  a result  of  the  way  in 
which  men  actually  present  themselves  in  the  world.  Some 

Ibid.,  sect.  6. 


ETHICAL  VIEWS 


65 


are  or  tend  to  become  higher  individuals,  others  do  not — 
though  it  would  seem  as  if  all  might.  Nietzsche  himself  is 
involved  in  more  or  less  contradiction  in  dealing  with  the 
matter.  Now  he  speaks  of  every  one  as  having  the  higher  possi- 
bilities, as  being  essentially  individual  and  unique,'®  now  he 
says  that  the  mass  are  always  “common  and  pitifully  uniform” 
and  that  the  “modern  man”  in  particular  “suffers  from  a weak 
personality”'® — one  thinks  of  Emerson’s  plaint  with  regard  to 
the  clergy  that  they  were  ‘ ‘ as  alike  as  peas,  ’ ’ he  could  not  ‘ ‘ tell 
them  apart.”®®  Perhaps  Nietzsche  could  only  have  reconciled 
these  discordant  utterances  by  saying  that  when  an  aim  takes 
practical  shape,  it  has  to  adapt  itself  to  matter-of-fact  condi- 
tions, and  make  the  best  of  material  that  is  at  hand.  Sometimes 
he  states  his  aim  as  consisting  in  the  furthering  of  the  produc- 
tion of  the  philosopher,  the  artist  and  the  saint,  “within  us  and 
without  us,”®'  and  doubtless  he  would  fain  have  seen  every 
man  a higher  man,  and  none  used  for  ends  outside  them ; ®®  but, 
as  things  are,  only  a few  show  effectively  the  higher  possibili- 
ties, and  the  rest  come  nearest  to  a high  value  by  serving  them. 
I shall  recur  to  the  subject  in  treating  his  closing  period.®® 

Nietzsche  gathered  encouragement  for  his  hope  of  a new 
culture  from  the  old  Greek  world.  The  contemplation  of  that 
great  past  made  him  believe  that  what  he  wished  for  was  no 
empty  dream.®^  He  says,  “The  Greeks  are  interesting  and  tre- 
mendously important  {ganz  toll  wichtig),  because  they  had  such 
a number  of  great  individuals.  How  was  this  possible?  It  is 
this  that  we  must  study.”  “What  alone  interests  me  is  the 
relation  of  a people  to  the  education  of  the  individual.”  And 
yet  it  must  be  confessed  that  in  the  fragmentary  notes®®  from 
which  these  remarks  are  taken,  Nietzsche  gives  us  scant  light 

” Hid.,  sects.  1,  5. 

” “ Use  and  Harm  of  History  etc.,”  sects.  5,  9.  Cf.  Havelock  Ellis’s 
observations  on  this  point,  Affirmations,  p.  21. 

^°“The  Preacher,”  in  Lectures  and  Biographical  Sketches. 

Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  5 (the  italics  are  mine). 

Cf.  the  strong  feeling  he  shows  about  using  up  individuals  for 
scientific  purposes,  by  narrowly  specializing  them;  “the  furthering  of  a 
science  at  the  expense  of  men  is  the  most  injurious  thing  in  the  world  ” 
(Werke,  X,  413,  §§  274-5;  cf.  IX,  325). 

See  pp.  381-2. 

Cf.  the  remarks  of  his  sister,  Werke  (pocket  ed.),  II,  xxi. 

They  were  intended  for  use  in  “ We  Philologists.” 


66 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


on  the  subject.  He  does  little  more  than  point  out  that  the 
“great  individuals”  did  not  come  from  any  particular  friendli- 
ness on  the  part  of  the  people,  arising  rather  amid  conflicts  in 
which  evil  impulses  had  their  part,  and  states  a general  con- 
viction that  when  man’s  inventive  spirit  gets  to  work,  there 
may  be  other  and  better  results  than  those  which  have  hitherto 
come  from  chance.  It  is  the  training  {Zuchtung)  of  the  higher 
types,  i.e.,  a conscious  purpose  in  that  direction,  on  which  the 
hope  of  the  future  rests.“ 


IV 

His  derivation  of  special  duties  presents  little  that  is  unusual. 
“Duties”  are  born  of  ideals.  Ultimately  we  impose  them  on 
ourselves;  yet  they  may  be  strict  obligations.^  He  speaks  of 
the  “pressure”  of  the  chain  of  duties  which  the  Schopenhauer 
type  of  man  fastens  on  himself.®  “Favored”  is  synonymous 
to  him  with  “fearfully  obligated.”  Freedom  is  a privilege, 
an  obligation,  a heavy  one,  “and  it  can  only  be  paid  off  by 
great  deeds”;  those  who  fail  to  realize  this,  do  nothing  good 
with  their  freedom  and  easily  go  to  pieces.®  He  even  speaks 
of  those  who  enter  the  lists  for  a culture  such  as  has  been 
described,  as  coming  to  “the  feeling  of  a duty  to  live”® — a 
different  thing,  I need  not  say,  from  the  animal  craving  to  live. 

“Justice,”  “sympathy,”  “pity,”  “love”  sometimes  receive 
shades  of  meaning  which  are  determined  by  his  particular 
views,  but  substantially  they  mean  the  same  to  him  as  to  the 
rest  of  us.  He  is  not  laudatory  of  power,  and  asks  his  genera- 
tion, “Where  are  those  among  you  who  will  follow  the  divine 
example  of  Wotan  and  become  greater  the  more  they  withdraw 
— who  will  renounce  power,  knowing  and  feeling  that  it  is 
evil?”^^  He  speaks  of  Wagner  as  early  tempted  to  seek  for 
“power  and  glory,”  but  notes  that  he  had  risen  to  purer  air.® 
The  man  inspired  by  justice  he  deems  the  most  reverend  speci- 
men of  our  kind,  and  he  flnds  it  an  impulse  for  the  scholar  as 

” See  Werke,  X,  384-5,  §§  199,  200. 

“ Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sects.  5,  6,  8. 

“ Ibid.,  sect,  5. 

Ibid.,  sect.  8. 

Ibid.,  sect.  6, 

’'“Richard  Wagner  etc.,”  sect.  11. 

” Ibid.,  sect.  8. 


ETHICAL  VIEWS 


67 


truly  as  for  others;  a spark  from  this  fire  falling  into  the 
scholar’s  soul  purifies  and  ennobles  him — ^lifts  him  out  of  the 
lukewarm  or  frigid  mood  in  which  he  is  apt  to  do  his  daily 
task.“  Nietzsche  interprets  justice  (momentarily  at  least) 
after  Schopenhauer,  as  a metaphysical  impulse^ — that  is,  one 
that  breaks  down  the  wall  of  individuality  belonging  to  our 
phenomenal  being  and  makes  each  say  “I  am  thou.”  Egoism, 
in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  term,  receives  little  countenance 
from  him;  whether  unintelligent  or  intelligent,  whether  on  the 
part  of  the  people  or  of  the  possessing  classes,  it  wins  no 
admiration.^ 

Sympathy  and  pity  rank  with  justice.  I may  cite  here  an 
incident  in  his  personal  history.  His  attack  on  Strauss  has 
been  already  mentioned.  It  sounds  malicious  at  times,  cer- 
tainly it  was  often  ironical,  but  it  was  really  an  attack  on  the 
specious  German  culture  which  Strauss  represented  (particu- 
larly in  the  widely  read  Old  and  New  Faifh^),  not  on  Strauss 
himself;  and  when  the  learned  man  died,  Nietzsche  was  half- 
rueful (for  his  book  had  made  considerable  impression),  and 
wrote  a friend,  “I  hope  that  I did  not  make  his  last  years  harder 
to  bear,  and  that  he  died  without  knowing  anything  of  me. 
It  disturbs  me  a bit.”^^  His  sister  tells  us  that  so  long  as  a 
type  he  combated  was  impersonal,  he  could  fight  joyfully;  but 
when  he  was  suddenly  made  to  realize  that  a man  of  sensitive 
heart,  surrounded  by  revering  friends,  stood  behind  it,  pity 
arose  instead,  and  he  suffered  more  from  the  blows  of  his  sword 
than  the  enemy  did — ^and  that  then  he  would  sigh,  “I  am  not 
really  made  for  hating  and  enmity.”  He  had  also  sympathy 
for  the  “people,”  the  unfortunate.  In  discussing  the  reform 
of  the  theater,  he  appears  to  have  above  all  the  popular  aspects 
of  the  case  in  mind,  speaking  of  the  hollowness  and  thought- 
lessness of  a society,  which  only  concerns  itself  for  the  mass  so 

“ Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  6. 

Hid.,  sect.  6. 

’’  “ Use  and  Harm  of  History  etc.,”  sects.  5,  9 ; cf.  the  tone  in  which 
“ truth  as  an  egoistic  possession  of  the  individual  ” is  spoken  of,  sect.  6. 

Welcker  judged  Strauss  with  similar  sharpness  (according  to  R.  M. 
Meyer,  Jahrbuch  fiir  das  classische  Alterthum,  V (1900),  716. 

See  Werke  (pocket  ed. ),  II,  xxxviii.  There  is  a later  reference  in 
somewhat  different  tone,  Werke  (8vo  ed.),  XIV,  373-4,  § 250. 

“ Werke  (pocket  ed.),  II,  xl. 


68 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


far  as  they  are  useful  or  dangerous,  and  goes  to  the  theater 
and  concerts  without  ever  a thought  of  duties.^®  He  even  says, 
“One  cannot  be  happy,  so  long  as  everything  suffers  and 
creates  suffering  about  us ; one  cannot  be  moral,  so  long  as  the 
course  of  human  things  is  determined  by  violence,  deceit,  and 
injustice;  one  cannot  even  be  wise,  so  long  as  all  mankind  has 
not  striven  for  wisdom  and  does  not  lead  the  individual  in  the 
wisest  way  to  life  and  knowledge”^” — it  is  almost  a socialistic 
sentiment.  He  tells  us  how  Wagner  “out  of  pity  for  the 
people”  became  a revolutionist^^  (something  many  of  us  may 
not  know,  unless  perchance  we  have  read  Mr.  Shaw’s  The  Per- 
fect Wagnerite) , and  gives  an  admiring  description  of  Wagner’s 
art,  which  no  longer  uses  the  language  of  a caste,  knows  no 
distinction  between  the  educated  and  the  uneducated,  and  is 
contrasted  to  this  extent  with  the  culture  of  the  Renaissance, 
including  that  of  Leopardi  and  of  Goethe,  its  last  great  fol- 
lowers.^ Indeed  under  Wagner’s  spell,  he  hails  a future  in 
which  there  will  be  no  highest  goods  and  enjoyments  which  are 
not  common  to  all.^®  He  desires  an  art — a true  art,  a true 
music — which  shall  be  just  for  those  who  least  deserve  it,  but 
most  need  it.'*^  We  have  already  noted  his  glowing  picture  of 
the  effect  of  the  ancient  Dionysian  festivals  and  dramas  in 
uniting  different  classes,  breaking  down  the  barriers  between 
free  men  and  slaves,  making  men  feel,  indeed,  their  oneness 
with  all  that  lives — no  one  without  deep  human  sympathies 
could  have  written  in  this  way;  and  it  was  a new  Dionysiac 
art,  a new  Dionysiac  age,  for  which  he  at  this  time  thought 
that  Wagner  was  helping  to  prepare  the  way. 

Sympathy  and  pity  are  only  forms  which  love  takes  in 
given  situations,  and  love  as  a principle,  as  the  culmination  of 
justice,  and  reaching  its  perfect  expression  in  the  saint,  is  the 
supreme  thing  to  Nietzsche.  The  distinctive  noble  marks  of 
youth  are  “fire,  defiance,  self-forgetfulness,  and  love.”^® 
Light-bearers  seek  out  men,  reluctant  to  lend  their  ears,  “com- 

Richard  Wagner  etc.,”  sect.  4. 

Ibid.,  sect.  5. 

Ibid.,  sect.  8;  cf.  Ecce  Homo,  II,  5. 

“ Richard  Wagner  etc.,”  sect.  10. 

Ibid.,  sect.  10. 

**  Ibid.,  sect.  6. 

*'  “ Use  and  Harm  of  History  etc.,”  sect.  9. 


ETHICAL  VIEWS 


69 


pelled  by  love.”^  “The  Ring  of  the  Nibelungen”  is  “the 
most  moral  music”  that  he  knows — he  refers  above  all  to  the 
transfiguration  of  love  there  portrayed,  clouds,  storms,  and  even 
the  sublime  in  nature  being  beneath  it.*^  He  compares  Wagner 
(whose  cause  he  is  pleading  in  the  uncertain  days  before 
Bayreuth)  to  Sieglinde  who  lives  “for  love’s  sake.”^®  It  is 
love  which  purifies  us  after  despair,  love  by  which  we  make  the 
eternal  suffering  of  the  world  our  own,  love  in  which  the  artist 
and  we  all  create,  or  do  anything  that  is  truly  great;  through 
love  alone  we  learn  not  only  to  see  truly  and  scorn  ourselves, 
but  to  look  out  beyond  ourselves  and  seek  with  all  our  power  for 
a higher  self  which  is  still  somewhere  hidden.^® 

Morality  reaches  its  culmination  in  the  saint.  Nietzsche 
praises  Schopenhauer  for  making  the  saint  the  final  judge  of 
existence.®  The  thought  is  the  same  when  he  describes  in  turn 
the  Rousseau  ideal  of  man,  the  Goethe  ideal,  and  the  Schopen- 
hauer ideal,  and  calls  the  last  superior.  The  Schopenhauer 
type  negates  whatever  can  be  negated  to  the  end  of  reaching 
the  truly  real.  He  may  in  the  process  put  an  end  to  his  earthly 
happiness,  may  have  to  be  hostile  even  to  men  he  loves  and  to 
institutions  that  gave  him  birth,  he  dare  spare  neither  men  nor 
things,  although  he  suffers  from  the  injury  he  inflicts ; he  may 
be  misunderstood  and  long  pass  as  an  ally  of  powers  he  despises, 
may  have  to  be  counted  unjust,  though  all  his  striving  is  for 
justice — but  he  will  say  to  himself,  and  find  consolation  in 
saying  (they  are  Schopenhauer’s  words),  “A  happy  life  is 
impossible ; the  highest  thing  which  man  can  reach,  is  an  heroic 
course  of  life.  Such  he  leads  who,  in  any  manner  and  situation, 
fights  against  enormous  odds  for  what  is  in  some  way  of  uni- 
versal benefit  and  in  the  end  conquers,  though  he  is  ill  or  not 
at  all  rewarded.  ’ ’ This  may  not  be  the  ordinary  idea  of  the 
saint,  but  it  is  what  Nietzsche  means  when  he  uses  the  term: 
it  is  really  the  hero-saint  whom  he  has  in  mind.  Such  an  one 

“ Eichard  Wagner  etc.,”  sect.  6. 

Hid.,  sect.  2. 

**  Ibid.,  sect.  10. 

Ibid.,  sect.  8,  Birth  of  Tragedy,  sect.  18,  “Schopenhauer  etc.,” 
sect.  6. 

“ Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  7. 

Ibid.,  sect.  4.  Cf.  Schopenhauer’s  Parerga  und  Parelipomena,  II, 
§ 172;  Aphorismen  fiir  Lebensweisheit,  § 53. 


70 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


dies  to  self,  he  scarcely  lives  any  longer  as  a separate  person, 
his  suffering  is  but  part  of  the  universal  suffering — Nietzsche 
remarks  that  there  are  moments  in  our  experience  when  we 
hardly  understand  the  word  “ I,  ” “ It  is  a part  of  the  higher 
purpose  of  tragedy  to  awaken  this  sense  of  a superpersonal 
being.  It  is  a sense  which  the  contemplation  of  death  and 
change  (things  inwrought  with  individual  existence)  does  not 
disturb;  and  Nietzsche  is  bold  enough  to  imagine  that  as  an 
individual  touched  by  the  tragic  spirit  unlearns  the  fearful 
anxiety  about  death  and  change  which  besets  most  of  us,  so 
the  ideal  height  for  mankind,  when  it  comes  to  die,  as  die  it 
must,  will  be  to  have  so  grown  together  into  unity  that  it  can 
as  a whole  face  its  dissolution  with  equal  elevation  and  com- 
posure.“  It  is  a thought  hard  to  grasp. 

I have  said  that  to  Nietzsche  the  ideal  was  born  from  within, 
a free  projection  of  the  soul.  So  vital  is  this  element  of  freedom 
to  him  that  he  at  one  time  makes  a remark  which  may  offend  us. 
It  is  in  connection  with  an  interpretation  of  Wagner  and  is 
really  a statement  of  Wagner’s  view,  but  from  the  way  he 
makes  it,  we  may  be  sure  that  it  represents  his  own.  After 
saying  that  it  is  no  final  arrangements  for  the  future,  no  utopia, 
which  Wagner  contemplates,  that  even  the  superhuman  good- 
ness and  justice  which  are  to  operate  there  will  be  after  no 
unchangeable  pattern,  and  that  possibly  the  future  race  will  in 
some  ways  seem  more  evil  than  the  present  one,  he  adds  (in 
substance)  : for  whatever  else  the  life  may  be,  it  will  be  open 
and  free,  passion  will  be  counted  better  than  stoicism  [stoic 
apathy]  and  hypocrisy,  honor  even  in  evil  courses  better  than 
losing  oneself  in  the  morality  of  tradition — for,  though  the  free 
man  may  be  good  as  well  as  evil,  the  unfree  man  is  a dishonor 
to  nature  and  without  part  either  in  heavenly  or  in  earthly 
consolation,  and  whoever  will  be  free  must  make  himself  so, 
freedom  falling  into  no  man’s  lap  as  a gift.®^  He  may  also 
offend  us  in  what  he  says  of  Siegfried,  for  he  speaks  admiringly 
of  the  Selbstigkeit  of  this  hero.  Now  Siegfried  is,  as  Mr. 
Shaw  has  pointed  out,  something  of  a revolutionist;  he  disre- 

“ Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  5. 

“ Richard  Wagner  etc.,”  sect.  4. 

Ihid.,  sect.  11. 


ETHICAL  VIEWS 


71 


gards  traditional  laws  and  the  ancient  Gods — he  is  for  man, 
for  the  living.  In  all  this  he  is  free,  fearless,  follows  his  im- 
pulse absolutely — and  Nietzsche  calls  it  his  “ Selbstigkeit,” 
“unschuldige  Selbstigheit.”^^  The  word  is  an  unusual  one 
and  English  writers  ordinarily  render  it  “selfishness” — so  that 
Nietzsche  appears  to  sanction  selfishness  and  pronounce  it 
innocent  from  the  start.  The  Germans  have,  however,  a special 
word  for  selfishness,  which  it  is  noticeable  that  Nietzsche  does 
not  use,  Selbstsucht,  and  the  connection  plainly  shows  that  it 
is  simply  an  unconditional  following  of  inner  impulse  against 
outward  pressure,  a strong  selfhood,  which  he  has  in  mind:  we 
might  say  “self-will,”  if  we  could  rid  that  word  of  associations 
of  petty  arbitrariness  and  obstinacy.®  An  analogue  to  Siegfried 
may  be  found  in  Prometheus,  to  whom  Nietzsche  elsewhere 
refers — and  with  something  of  the  same  thought.  The  glory 
of  Prometheus  in  his  eyes  is  that  he  is  ready  to  save  the  needy 
race  of  man  even  though  he  goes  against  the  laws  and  pre- 
rogatives of  the  Gods,  i.e.,  by  sin — the  Aryan  myth  thus  pre- 
senting an  interesting  contrast  to  the  corresponding  Semitic  one, 
according  to  which  mere  feminine  curiosity  and  weakness 
brought  down  Heaven’s  wrath.^ 

But  the  strong  selfhood,  which  is  an  indispensable  part  of 
Nietzsche’s  conception  of  virtue,  involves  hardness  on  occasion 
— one  must  not  be  too  sensitive  to  pain,  whether  one’s  own  or 
others’.  The  thinker  must  be  ready  to  be  hard.  A part  of 
Nietzsche’s  admiration  for  Schopenhauer  lay  in  the  fact  that 
he  was  a good  and  brave  fighter ; he  had  had  by  inheritance  and 
also  from  his  father’s  example  that  first  essential  of  the  philoso- 
pher, firm  and  rugged  masculinity  {unbeugsame  und  rauhe 
Mdnnlichkeit)  Nietzsche  also  appreciates  unconventionality — 
and  this  too  because  a strong  selfhood  is  thereby  indicated. 
Our  artists,  he  says,  and  notably  Wagner,  live  more  bravely  and 
honorably  than  our  scholars  and  professors — even  Kant  con- 
formed too  mueh.^® 

Ibid.,  sect.  11. 

Birth  of  Tragedy,  sect.  9. 

“ Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sects.  2,  3,  7. 

Ibid.,  sects.  3,  7,  8. 


CHAPTER  VII 


SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  IDEAS 

Nietzsche’s  moral  aim  became  practically,  as  we  have  seen,  a 
striving  for  a new  culture.  Some  consequences  in  the  social 
and  political  field  are  now  to  be  noted. 

I 

One  is  the  sanction  he  feels  obliged  to  give  to  slavery. 
Wherever  there  has  been  anything  like  culture  or  civilization 
in  the  world,  something  like  slavery  has  been  at  its  basis.  It 
is  so  now.  The  current  phrase  “factory  slave”  is  not  a mere 
metaphor.  When  an  individual  works  for  others’  good  rather 
than  his  own,  and  has  to,  whether  the  compelling  force  is  that 
of  a personal  master  or  of  circumstances  over  which  he  has  no 
control,  slavery  exists  in  principle.*  It  is  not  a thing  in  which, 
as  one  might  imagine  from  current  representations  of  Nietzsche, 
he  takes  pleasure,  but  rather  one  of  those  forbidding  facts  which 
give  a problematical  character  to  existence  in  general.  The  only 
apology  for  slavery  is  that  the  possibility  of  attaining  the 
higher  ends  of  human  existence  is  bound  up  with  it.  Culture — 
meaning  now  broadly  any  social  state  in  which  man  rises  above 
his  natural  life  as  an  animal  and  pursues  ends  like  philosophy 
and  art — does  not  come  at  will,  but  is  strictly  conditioned.  As 
before  stated,  it  is  the  fruit  of  leisure;  and  that  there  may  be 
leisure  for  some,  others  must  work  more  than  their  share.® 
Such  a necessity  goes  against  our  instincts  of  humanity  and 
justice,  and  many  have  been  led  to  rebel  against  it.  We  read 
of  Emerson  making  a modest  attempt  in  this  direction.  It  was 
in  the  days  of  the  Anti-Slavery  agitation  and  he  had  been 
urging,  with  a somewhat  larger  view  than  the  abolitionists  ordi- 
narily took,  “Does  he  not  do  more  to  abolish  slavery  who  works 
all  day  steadily  in  his  own  garden,  than  he  who  goes  to  the 

* Nietzsche’s  broad  use  of  tlie  term  “ slave  ” becomes  even  more  con- 
spicuous later,  see  pp.  127,  249-50,  442-3. 

72 


SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  IDEAS 


73 


abolition  meeting  and  makes  a speech?  He  who  does  his  own 
work  frees  a slave.  ’ ’ And  now,  as  if  at  least  to  set  his  own  life 
right,  he  goes  to  work  digging  in  his  Concord  garden — if  not  all 
day,  a part  of  it.  He  continues  for  a time,  but  he  finds  alas! 
that  his  writing  and  power  of  intellectual  work  are  suffering, 
that,  as  he  quaintly  puts  it,  if  his  “terrestrial  corn,  beets,  onions, 
and  tomatoes  fiourish,  the  celestial  archetypes  do  not” — and 
so  comes  at  last  to  the  reluctant  conclusion,  “ The  writer 
shall  not  dig.  ’ ’ ^ The  logic  of  the  experience  is  old.  Of  course, 
when  he  ceased  doing  “his  own  work,”  some  one  else  had  to 
work  the  more  (supposing  that  his  writing  and  thinking  were 
to  continue),  and  “slavery”  went  on  much  as  before.  Nietzsche 
puts  it  broadly,  “Slavery  belongs  to  the  nature  of  a culture” 
{zum  Wesen  einer  Cultur  gehort  das  Sklaventhum) . “That 
there  may  be  a broad,  deep,  and  fruitful  soil  for  a development 
of  art,  the  immense  majority  must  be  in  service  to  a minority”; 
at  the  former’s  expense,  by  their  surplus  labor  (Nietzsche  does 
not  shun  the  Marxian  word,  Mehrarbeit),  a privileged  few 
are  lifted  above  the  struggle  for  existence.^  It  is  a hard  view, 
but  the  truth,  he  thinks,  is  hard  at  times,^  and  it  seems  a virtue 
to  him  not  to  deceive  oneself.  We  in  our  day  speak  of  the 
“dignity  of  man,”  the  “dignity  of  labor,”  the  “equal  rights” 
of  all — to  him  these  are  phantom  conceptions  by  which  we 
hide  the  real  state  of  the  case  from  our  eyes,  above  all  by  which 
the  great  slave  mass  among  us  hide  their  real  estate  from  their 
eyes} 


u 

But  Nietzsche  must  not  be  misunderstood.  In  recognizing 
the  slavery  of  the  manual  workers,  he  does  not  mean  to  place 
them  in  contrast  with  the  employing  and  commercial  classes 
who  have  rights  to  do  as  they  please.  One  of  the  best  and 
most  intelligent  of  our  American  newspapers  speaks  of  him 
as  “par  excellence  the  philosopher  of  the  unscrupulous  business 
man.”  ® This  is  the  half-knowledge,  or  rather,  to  speak  frankly, 

* Werke,  IX,  151.  Nietzsche  is  here  stating  the  presuppositions  of 
Greek  culture,  but  the  truth  is  to  his  mind  general. 

’ “ Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  4. 

* Werke,  IX,  148-9. 

' Springfield  Weekly  Republican,  14  Nov.,  1907. 


74 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


the  ignorance  of  our  cultivated  circles  with  respect  to  Nietzsche 
today.  In  a normal  social  organization,  the  employing  and 
commercial  classes  would  in  his  view  he  subject  to  control  as 
well  as  the  workers.  The  unhappy  thing  in  the  modern  world 
is  that  they  have  more  or  less  emancipated  themselves  from 
control.  This  is  the  meaning  of  laisser  faire — a doctrine  of 
liberty  in  the  interests  of  the  employing  and  commercial  classes. 
Nietzsche  finds  it  working  injuriously  on  the  morality  of  modern 
peoples.®  The  unrestrained  egoism  of  individuals  as  of  peoples 
is  pushing  them  into  mutually  destructive  struggles,  and  it  is 
the  most  covetous  who  have  the  supreme  place.^  Once  a re- 
straining infiuence  was  exercised  by  the  Church,  but  the 
Reformation  was  obliged,  in  order  to  get  a foothold,  to  declare 
many  things  adiaphora  (i.e.,  not  subject  to  the  control 
of  religious  considerations),  and  economical  activity  was  one  of 
them,  with  the  result  that  “the  coarsest  and  most  evil  forces” 
have  come  to  be  the  practically  determining  things  almost 
everywhere.®  Educated  classes  and  states  alike  are  carried 
away  by  pecuniary  ambitions,  at  once  grandiose  and  contempti- 
ble. He  speaks  repeatedly  of  “the  selfishness  of  the  business 
class,”  “the  brutal  money-greed  of  the  entrepreneurs.^’^  It 
is  “a  period  of  atoms,  of  atomistic  chaos,”  into  which  we  have 
passed.^® 

Particularly  after  the  Franco-Prussian  war  did  Nietzsche 
notice  the  unchaining  of  this  vulgar  egoism  in  Germany. 
Rapacious  striving,  insatiable  accumulating,  selfish  and  shame- 
less enjoying  were  characteristic  marks  of  the  time.^^  “When 
the  war  was  over,  the  luxury,  the  contempt  of  the  French,  the 
nationalism  {das  Nationale)  displeased  me.  How  far  back  had 
we  gone  compared  with  Goethe!  Disgusting  sensualism  I ” 
The  new  spirit  perverted  the  aims  of  culture.  Now  forsooth 
education  was  to  be  for  practical  purposes ; the  kind  that  looked 
beyond  money  and  gain,  that  consumed  much  time  and  sep- 
arated one  from  society,  was  questioned — or  stigmatized  as 

“ ‘ ‘ Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  2. 

’ Birth  of  Tragedy,  sect.  15,  “ Richard  Wagner  etc.,”  sect.  6. 

* “ Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  4. 

' Ibid.,  sect.  6,  “ Richard  Wagner  etc.,”  sect.  4. 

“ Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  4. 

” Ibid.,  sect.  6. 

” Werke,  XI,  119,  § 369. 


SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  IDEAS  75 

“refined  egoism,”  “Epicureanism.”  People  said,  “We  have 
been  too  poor  and  modest  hitherto,  let  us  become  rich  and  self- 
conscious,  and  then  we  also  [i.e.,  as  well  as  the  French]  shall 
have  a culture!” — to  which  Nietzsche  could  only  reply  that 
this  kind  of  a culture  would  be  the  opposite  of  what  he  believed 
in.^^  Art  was  misconceived,  though  this  tendency  he  admitted 
to  be  general  in  modern  society:  “modern  art  is  luxury,”  the 
appanage  of  the  wealthy  class,  their  relief  from  fatigue  or 
ennui.  He  comments  on  the  unscrupulousness  of  those  who 
take  art  and  artists  into  their  pay;  for  just  as  they  “by  the 
shrewdest  and  most  hard-hearted  use  of  their  power  have 
known  how  to  make  the  weaker,  the  people,  even  more  sub- 
servient, lower,  less  like  the  people  of  old  (unvolksthumlicher) , 
and  to  create  the  modern  type  of  “worker,”  so  they  have  laid 
hands  on  the  greatest  and  purest  things  which  the  people  have 
created  out  of  their  deepest  need  and  in  which  they  have  ten- 
derly expressed  their  soul  in  true  and  unique  artist  fashion, 
namely,  their  myths,  their  songs,  their  dances,  their  idioms  of 
speech,  in  order  to  distil  out  of  it  all  a sensuous  remedy  for 
the  exhaustion  and  tedium  of  their  existence.  ’ ’ Indeed  few 
socialists,  and,  I might  add,  few  old-time  aristocrats,  could 
speak  more  disrespectfully  than  he  of  the  industrial  and  com- 
mercial powers  that  now  rule  the  world — the  money  powers; 
included,  who  use  the  state  itself  for  selfish  purposes,  and  on 
occasion  oppose  war  and  even  favor  the  masses  against  mon- 
archs,  since  the  masses  incline  to  peace,  and  peace  is  better  for 
them  to  ply  their  trade  in  1 This  does  not  mean  that  he  fails 
to  recognize  the  legitimate  place  of  industry  and  trade  and 
finance  in  the  world,  however  large  the  scale  on  which  they 
may  be  conducted ; he  has  no  notion  of  returning  to  an  archaic 
simplicity  of  life  after  the  manner  of  Tolstoy.  “Every  society 
must  have  its  bowels,  ’ ’ he  remarks  in  homely  fashion ; and 
he  would  doubtless  have  agreed  that  the  larger  the  society,  the 
wider  its  range  of  need,  the  ampler  the  bowels  might  well  be. 
The  inversion  of  the  true  order  of  things  which  he  finds  today 

“ Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  6. 

'‘“Richard  Wagner  etc.,”  sect.  8. 

Werke,  IX,  160-2.  As  against  this  kind  of  supremacy,  Nietzsche  is 
willing  to  have  war. 

“ Richard  Wagner  etc.,”  sect.  6. 


76 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


is  simply  that  the  bowels  have  become  the  end  for  which  the 
body  exists.  Servants  in  control,  instead  of  being  controlled — 
this  is  the  gist  of  the  situation,  the  business  as  truly  as  the 
working  classes  coming  normally  under  the  serving  or  slave 
category.  Freemen  are  a different  class  altogether — they  are 
the  higher  types  already  described,  whose  manner  of  life  the 
slaves  make  possible,  those  for  whom  the  ordered  life  of  society 
ultimately  exists  and  from  whom  it  normally  receives  its  final 
direction. 


Ill 

In  the  light  of  the  foregoing,  the  personal  “non-political” 
attitude  of  Nietzsche  is  not  so  strange.  It  has  little  to  do  with 
theoretic  anarchism.  He  recognizes  the  place  and  function  of 
the  state.  While  originating  in  force,  violence,  usurpation,  and 
so  of  shameful  birth,  the  result  of  it  in  time  is  an  ordered  social 
life  on  a large  scale  (for  families  or  tribes  or  village  communi- 
ties are  hardly  as  yet  states),  and  the  possibility  of  a class  set 
free  from  labor,  who  can  devote  themselves  to  the  higher  ends 
of  life.  This  is  its  justification — the  justification  even  of  the 
conquest  and  wrong  that  lie  at  its  basis.  “Proudly  and  calmly 
the  Greek  state  advances  before  the  judgment  seat,  and  leads 
by  the  hand  a blooming  and  glorious  figure,  Greek  society.  For 
this  Helen  it  makes  its  wars — what  gray-bearded  judge  will 
dare  pass  an  adverse  verdict  ? ” Hence  if  Nietzsche  does  not 

take  part  in  the  political  life  of  his  time  and  even  intentionally 
holds  aloof  from  it,  it  was  not  for  anarchistic  reasons.  In  the 
first  place  it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  for  all  his  criticism 
he  was  essentially  loyal  to  his  fatherland — even  to  Prussia. 
He  admitted  that  one  who  is  possessed  by  the  furor  philo- 
sophicus  has  no  time  for  the  furor  politicus,  but  he  added  that 
if  one’s  country  is  in  actual  need,  one  will  not  hesitate  for  a 
moment  to  take  one’s  post;^®  and  he  had  himself,  as  we  have 
seen,  taken  service  under  Prussia,  so  far  as  he  could,  in  the 
war  of  1870.  Secondly,  he  held  that  the  political  art  is  essen- 
tially a special  art,  i.e.,  one  not  for  everybody,  but  for  those 
who  are  specially  trained.  All  are  properly  subject  to  the 
state,  but  not  all  should  have  a hand  in  steering  it.  He  thought 

” Werke,  IX,  159.  “ Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  7. 


SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  IDEAS 


77 


that  states  are  poorly  arranged,  in  which  other  than  statesmen 
have  to  interfere  in  public  business,  and  that  they  merit  their 
fate  if  they  go  to  pieces  from  “these  many  statesmen.”  And, 
thirdly,  he  felt  that  politics  is  actually  in  a bad  way  at  the 
present  time — commercial  aims  are  ruling  it  and  socialism  is 
threatening;  wealth,  comfort,  “freedom”  are  the  main  things 
aimed  at — it  is  a practically  uncontrollable  tendency  that  must 
have  its  day.  He  saw  the  new  tendency,  as  just  explained, 
taking  possession  of  Germany.  Hence  he  was  not  at  home  in 
the  world  about  him.  The  Socrates  of  Plato  compared  the  wise 
man  under  the  political  conditions  of  the  then-existing  world 
to  one  who  takes  shelter  behind  a wall,  when  the  wind  is  making 
a hurricane  of  dust  and  rain.^®  Something  like  this  was  Nietz- 
sche’s attitude  to  the  politics  of  his  day.  He  felt  that  a valid  | 
order  did  not  exist — that  a kind  of  madness  was  taking  pos-  j 
session  of  men’s  minds.  Or,  if  I am  not  again  connecting  him 
with  too  great  a name,  he  was  like  Plato  himself  when  the  latter 
turned  the  energy  of  his  thought  and  imagination  to  the  con- 
struction of  an  ideal  res  puhlica — and  indeed  Nietzsche’s  con- 
ception in  detail  was  not  unlike  Plato’s,  save  as  he  gave  (par- 
ticularly at  this  time)  a vital  place  to  the  artist,  a class  whom 
Plato  wished  to  banish.  Nietzsche  himself  notes  that  the  fire 
and  exaltation  of  Plato’s  political  passion  went  in  this  ideal 
(rather  than  practical)  direction.^  He  comments  on  Niebuhr’s 
reproach  against  Plato  that  he  was  a poor  citizen,  and  says,  Let 
one  who  feels  in  this  way  be  a good  citizen,  and  let  Plato  be 
what  he  was.^  In  other  words,  political  activity  has  a quite 
secondary  place  in  his  estimation — though  this  does  not  mean 
that  he  gave  it  no  place.  A state-favored  philosophy  he  counted 
especially  undesirable,  states  being  what  they  are.  The  state 
wants  only  what  is  useful  to  itself.  Better  let  philosophers 
grow  wild  or  even  be  persecuted,  he  once  ventures  to  say,  and 
then  perhaps  the  real  ones  will  be  sifted  out.^®  A happy  con- 
trast, in  his  judgment,  of  the  Greek  state  with  the  prevailing 
type  of  state  today  is,  that  it  did  not  assume  to  be  a regulator 
or  overseer  of  culture,  but  simply  a good  muscular  helper,  a 
hardy  escort  for  it  among  rough  realities.^'^ 

Ihid.,  sect.  7.  “ Scliopenhauei-  etc.,”  sect.  8. 

The  Republic,  vi,  496.  Ibid.,  sect.  8. 

TFerfce,  IX,  164.  Werke,  IX,  369,  370. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


RELATIONS  WITH  WAGNER 

The  intellectual  preparation  for  the  new  culture  which  Nietz- 
sche hoped  for  had  been  made,  he  thought,  by  Kant  and  Scho- 
penhauer— the  former  in  demonstrating  the  limits  of  scientific 
knowledge,  the  latter  in  facing  fearlessly  the  tragic  facts  of 
existence  and  in  proposing  the  production  of  the  philosopher, 
the  artist,  and  the  saint,  as  the  true  aim  of  human  life.  But 
the  practical  attaining  of  the  result  was  another  matter — and 
art,  he  believed,  might  render  great  assistance  to  this  end.  Yes, 
a certain  kind  of  art  would  stand  almost  in  a relation  of  cause 
and  effect  to  it — namely,  art  of  the  Dionysiae  type  such  as  had 
existed  among  the  Greeks.  Nietzsche  thought  he  discovered  the 
beginnings  of  such  an  art  in  the  work  of  a contemporary — 
Richard  Wagner.  Wagner  was,  in  a sense,  a disciple  of  Scho- 
penhauer; he  possessed  an  ardent  moral  nature  and  was  dis- 
satisfied with  the  existing  forms  of  social  and  political  life;  he 
too  looked,  however  vaguely,  for  a new  culture,  and  was  not 
without  the  thought  that  art — and  his  art  in  particular — might 
serve  to  this  end. 


I 

It  is  necessary  to  explain  at  the  outset  Nietzsche’s  view  of 
the  peculiar  nature  of  musical  art — something  I passed  over  in 
treating  his  view  of  art  in  general.  In  it  he  follows  closely 
in  the  footsteps  of  Schopenhauer.  Music  is  radically  different 
from  the  other  arts.  A picture,  a statue,  or  a poem  of  the  epic 
order  portrays  things  without  us,  or  as  we  might  imagine  their 
existing  without  us — it  gives  us  objects.  Music,  on  the  other 
hand,  expresses  feeling  and  has  nothing  to  do  directly  with 
objects.  It  reflects  moods,  desires,  longings,  resolves — the  whole 
spontaneous  and  voluntary  side  of  our  nature,  which  Schopen- 
hauer summed  up  as  will.  No  doubt  most  of  us  are  conscious 

78 


RELATIONS  WITH  WAGNER 


79 


at  times  of  a peculiar  intimacy  in  music — it  touches  us,  takes 
hold  of  us,  seems  to  reveal  hidden  depths  within  us,  as  nothing 
else  does.  Schopenhauer  called  it  the  most  metaphysical  of 
the  arts,  meaning  that  it  comes  nearest  to  expressing  the  inmost 
reality  of  things,  which  to  his  mind  was  will.  The  other  arts 
are  at  two  removes  from  this  reality;  not  only  is  it  objects 
which  they  give  us,  but  these  objects  are  themselves  repre- 
sentative of  objects.  Music,  on  the  contrary,  stands  directly 
related  to  it — when  we  listen  to  music,  only  this  lightest,  most 
insubstantial,  most  transparent  of  all  objects,  sound,  stands 
between  us  and  the  reality. 

Now  there  are  feelings  of  the  moment,  and  there  is  what 
we  may  call  the  ground-tone  of  our  life — our  feeling  about  life, 
our  attitude  to  it,  whether  of  affirmation  or  negation,  in  short, 
the  set  of  our  will  as  a whole.  It  is  music  of  the  deeper,  more 
significant  sort  that  interested  Nietzsche,  and  it  was  this  kind 
of  music  which  he  thought  lay  at  the  basis  of  the  Greek  tragic 
drama.  It  was  of  religious  inspiration,  reflected  general  moods 
about  life,  was  a part  of  the  worship  of  Dionysus.  The  full 
title  of  Nietzsche’s  book  on  Greek  Tragedy  was  The  Birth  of 
Tragedy  out  of  the  Spirit  of  Music.  In  it  he  points  out  that 
the  earliest  form  of  tragedy  was  simply  song  and  gesture 
(dance),  that  the  dialogue  came  later  and  was  a secondary 
matter.  Even  down  to  Sophocles  the  chorus  was  the  central 
thing.  Hence  in  that  revival  of  a tragic  culture,  toward  which 
Nietzsche’s  thoughts  were  turning,  it  was  natural  that  music 
should  have  a central  place, — it  was  natural  too  to  think  that 
music  would  render  vital  service  in  preparing  the  way  for  that 
culture,  by  stirring  the  feelings,  the  mood,  on  which  it  would 
ultimately  rest.^ 


II 

The  capital  point  in  this  theory  is  that  the  musical  strains 
are  expressive  of  feeling  directly,  neither  copying  external 
objects  nor  produced  for  objective  effect — the  purity  of  music 
lies  in  its  lyric  quality.  Just  in  proportion  to  its  genuineness 
would,  Nietzsche  held,  the  new  music  avail.^  The  Dionysian 
maenads  had  no  thought  whether  others  were  observing  them 
^ Cf.  Birth  of  Tragedy,  sects.  19,  22,  24. 


80 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


or  not — they  sang  and  danced  from  inner  impulse;  Raphael’s 
Cecilia,  we  feel,  is  not  singing  to  others,  but  to  herself  and 
heaven.^  True  music  is  a kind  of  soliloquy,  and  Wagner  reaches 
this,  Nietzsche  feels,  in  his  great  works,  “Tristan  and  Isolde,” 
the  “ Meistersinger,  ” and  the  “Ring.”^  Wagner  too  has  the 
right  view  of  the  relation  of  words  to  music  (i.e.,  Nietzsche 
thinks  so  at  the  start)  : the  music,  through  which  the  ground- 
emotion  of  the  persons  in  the  drama  is  communicated  to  the 
hearer,  is  for  him  the  primary  thing;  then  comes  the  action  or 
gestures  of  the  persons,  and  last  of  all  the  words,  as  a still 
paler  reflection  of  the  original  emotional  state.'*  The  music  is 
not  an  accompaniment  to  the  words  (as  is  the  ease  in  ordinary 
opera — something  which  Nietzsche  detests),  rather  are  the 
words  a kind  of  halting  accompaniment  to  the  music.'’  Yes,  in 
such  words  as  Wagner  knows  how  to  use,  he  gets  back,  Nietzsche 
feels,  to  the  primitive  significance  of  language — which  was 
itself  half  poetry  and  feeling;  the  words  are  often  tones  more 
than  anything  else — and  to  Wagner’s  sympathetic  imagination, 
all  nature,  alive  and  striving,  seeks  to  express  itself  in  tonesi 
In  this  connection  Nietzsche  refers  to  Schiller’s  confession  that 
in  poetical  composition  his  mind  had  no  deflnite  and  clear 
object  before  it  at  the  start,  the  first  impulse  being  a certain 
musical  mood,  and  that  the  poetical  idea  came  afterwards  and 
as  a consequence.^  Nietzsche  interprets  the  folk-song  in  a 
similar  way — the  air  or  melody  is  primary,  and  the  accom- 
panying poetry  is  born  out  of  it,  and  may  even  be  of  different 
sorts:  the  music  is  the  standard,  with  which  the  words  strive 
to  harmonize.®  He  goes  so  far  as  to  say  of  music  in  general, 
that  it  tolerates  the  image,  word,  or  concept  rather  than  needs 
it,  language  never  touching  its  inner  depths.'^'’  Peeling  is 
equally,  he  holds,  the  original  element  in  myths  such  as  Wagner 
uses  or  fashions — in  them  he  poetizes.  In  the  “Ring,”  for 
instance,  we  have  a series  of  myths,  which  Wagner  partly 
adopted,  partly  created,  as  an  objectivation  of  his  feeling  about 
the  world  and  society — they  are  utterly  unintelligible  as  scien- 
tific statements,  and  can  only  be  comprehended  as  we  pass  into 

’ “ Richard  Wagner  etc.,”  sect.  9. 

° Ihid.,  sect.  8. 

‘ Ibid.,  sect.  5. 


° Birth  of  Tragedy,  sect.  5. 
" Ibid.,  sect.  6. 

’ Ibid.,  sect.  6. 


RELATIONS  WITH  WAGNER 


81 


the  mood  out  of  which  they  were  projected;  a corresponding 
scientific  statement  might  be  made,  but  it  would  be  totally 
different.® 


Ill 

With  these  deeper  views  of  music,  with  his  poetic,  myth- 
making gift  (a  far  greater,  more  helpful  thing  to  the  mass  of 
mankind  than  the  analytic  scientific  faculty),  with  his  broad 
human  sympathies  and  his  sense  of  the  tragic  nature  of  the 
world,  Wagner  was  the  man,  Nietzsche  thought,  to  prepare  the 
general  mind  emotionally,  as  Kant  and  Schopenhauer  had  intel- 
lectually, for  the  culture  to  be;  if  Schopenhauer  was  par  emi- 
nence its  philosopher,  Wagner  was  to  be  its  artist.  Broad  im- 
personal ties  of  this  kind  lay  at  the  basis  of  the  enthusiastic 
attachment  which  he  formed  for  Wagner — the  great  musician 
met  a profound  need  of  the  time,  filled  out  his  ideal.  But  per- 
sonal relations  were  also  formed — and  the  friendship  between 
the  two  men,  while  it  lasted,  was  something  rare  and  beautiful. 
As  before  stated,  he  often  spent  week-ends  with  Wagner  in  his 
villa  at  the  foot  of  Mt.  Pilatus,  overlooking  Lake  Lucerne — 
with  Wagner  and  his  wife  Cosima,  for  whom  he  had  an  almost 
equally  reverent  affection.  At  this  time  the  master  was  working 
on  ‘ ‘ Siegfried,  ’ ’ and  plans  were  also  making  for  the  event  which 
loomed  so  large  in  their  common  expectations — Bayreuth. 
Nietzsche  afterwards  said  that  he  was  perhaps  the  first  to  love 
Wagner  and  Schopenhauer  with  a single  enthusiasm® — and  in 
writing  to  a friend  at  the  time  he  described  these  days  (between 
1869-72)  as  his  “practical  course  in  the  Schopenhauerian 
philosophy.”^®  He  felt  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  a genius 
such  as  Schopenhauer  had  portrayed.  “No  one  knows  him,” 
he  writes,  “or  can  judge  of  him,  because  all  the  world  stands 
on  a different  basis  and  is  not  at  home  in  his  atmosphere. 
There  is  such  an  absolute  ideality  about  him,  such  a deep  and 
affecting  humanity,  such  sublime  seriousness  that  I feel  in  his 
presence  as  if  I were  near  something  divine.  ’ ’ Again,  ‘ ‘ I 

® “ Richard  Wagner  etc.,”  sect.  9. 

« Werke,  XIV,  375,  § 254. 

Briefe,  II,  150.  See  the  description  of  this  intercourse,  and  the 
admirable  account  of  the  whole  Nietzsche- Wagner  episode  by  Richter, 
Friedrich  Nietzsche  u.s.w.,  pp.  37-56. 

“ Briefe,  I,  142-3. 


82 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


have  my  Italy  as  well  as  you.  . . . It  is  called  Tribschen  [the 
name  of  Wagner’s  villa] : and  I am  already  at  home  in  it. 
Dearest  friend,  what  I there  learn  and  see,  hear  and  under- 
stand, is  indescribable.  Believe  me,  Schopenhauer  and  Goethe, 
JEschylus  and  Pindar  still  live.”^  The  happiness  of  these 
years  was  never  forgotten  by  Nietzsche;  after  he  broke  with 
W^agner,  and  when  he  was  criticising  and  dissecting  him  in 
perhaps  unmerciful  fashion,  the  memory  of  them  haunted  him. 
‘ ‘ How  often,  ’ ’ he  writes  to  Peter  Gast  in  1880,  ‘ ‘ I dream  of  him 
and  ever  in  the  manner  of  our  old  confidential  relations.  Never 
was  an  evil  word  spoken  between  us,  not  even  in  my  dreams, 
but  very  many  cheering  and  glad  ones,  and  with  no  one  per- 
haps have  I so  often  laughed.  It  is  past  now — and  what  matters 
it  that  in  many  points  I am  in  the  right  against  him ! As  if 
that  lost  sympathy  could  be  wiped  out  of  my  memory ! ” And, 
though  Nietzsche  was  the  reverential  admirer  and  disciple,  he 
gave  as  well  as  received.  The  music  in  the  third  act  of  “Sieg- 
fried” is  said  to  be  partly  owing  to  his  influence — his  sister 
telling  us  that  Wagner  often  assured  her  that  his  coming  to 
know  Nietzsche  had  inspired  him  to  this  music,  for  he  [Nietz- 
sche] had  given  him  back  his  faith  in  the  German  youth  and 
in  the  future.^^  Moreover,  Wagner  took  over  from  him  the 
conceptions  of  “Dionysiac”  and  “Apollinie”  as  principles  of 
art.  His  appreciation  of  Nietzsche  was  strong  and  warm. 
“After  my  wife,”  he  wrote  him  at  this  time,  “you  are  the  one 
prize  which  life  has  brought  me”;  and  again,  “Before  God  I 
declare  that  I believe  you  to  be  the  one  person  who  knows  what 
I want  to  do.  ’ ’ 

The  relationship  with  Wagner  and  the  issues  involved  were 
so  great  in  Nietzsche’s  eyes,*^  that  he  more  or  less  reshaped  his 
scholar’s  life  accordingly.  He  had  been  lecturing  on  Greek  life 
and  philosophy,  and  was  preparing  an  extensive  work  on  the 
subject,®  and  now  he  took  some  of  the  material  and  made  a little 
book  of  it  by  itself,  which  he  dedicated  to  Wagner.  His  ultimate 
aim  in  the  book  was  to  show  that,  as  the  tragic  view  and  tragic 
art  had  marked  the  great  epoch  of  the  Greeks,  a similar  view 
lUd.,  II,  167. 

’•  Ihid.,  IV,  356;  cf.  Ecce  Homo,  II,  §§  5,  6. 

’*  Werke  (pocket  ed.).  Ill,  ix. 

“ Briefe.  Ila.  85.  131. 


RELATIONS  WITH  WAGNER 


83 


and  art  were  needed  for  another  great  culture  today,  and  that 
Wagner  was  pointing  the  way.  It  was  The  Birth  of  Tragedy. 
It  offended  purely  philological  circles,  but  it  served  its  purpose 
none  the  less ; ^ and  the  light  it  threw  on  old  Greek  life  is  per- 
haps more  important  than  was  commonly  thought  at  the  time.® 
Wagner  circles,  and  above  all  Wagner  himself,  were  profoundly 
stirred.  He  went  freshly  to  work  on  the  last  act  of  “Gotter- 
dammerung,”  and  said  he  knew  not  how  he  could  have  been  so 
fortunate.  Nietzsche  was  even  ready  to  go  about  Germany 
giving  lectures  in  behalf  of  the  Bayreuth  idea,  and  composed 
an  “Appeal  to  the  German  nation.’”^  In  May,  1872,  he  was 
one  of  the  reverent  company  that  attended  the  laying  of  the 
corner-stone  of  the  Bayreuth  theater,  and  listened  to  the  strains 
of  Beethoven’s  Ninth  Symphony  rendered  under  the  master’s 
direction.  “There  was  something  in  the  air,”  he  said  in  com- 
menting on  the  occasion,  “that  I have  nowhere  else  experienced, 
something  quite  indescribable  and  of  richest  promise.”^® 

About  this  time  Wagner  left  Tribschen  for  his  permanent 
home  in  Bayreuth,  and  Nietzsche  did  not  see  him  so  frequently 
thereafter.  The  idyllic  period  in  their  mutual  relations  proved 
to  be  over.  The  physical  separation  may  have  given  Nietzsche 
an  opportunity  for  critical  reflection  such  as  he  had  hardly  had 
before;  in  any  case,  questionings,  doubts  began  to  arise,  and 
somewhat  clouded  his  simple  faith.  Yet  his  main  feeling  con- 
tinued to  be  that  of  loyalty,  and  he  not  only  wrote  pamphlets 
or  little  books  to  serve  the  general  cause  of  a new  culture  (the 
first  three  Unzeitgemdsse  Betrachtungen),  but  a special  one 
on  Wagner  (“Richard  Wagner  in  Bayreuth”).  This  last  was 
at  once  an  elaborate  critical  study  and  a splendid  tribute.  In 
it  Bayreuth  appears  as  a “morning  consecration  for  the  day 
of  battle”'^ — the  book  published  on  the  eve  of  the  opening  in 
1876.  It  was  really  an  appeal  and  a challenge  to  the  German- 
speaking peoples  on  Wagner’s  and  Bayreuth’s  behalf.’  Wagner, 
quite  overcome,  wrote  to  him,  “Friend,  your  book  is  immense. 
. . . Where  did  you  get  the  knowledge  of  me?”  and  he  urged 

Das  Leben  Friedrich  Nietzsches  by  Elizabeth  Forster-Nietzsche,  Vol. 
II,  p.  77.  That  same  summer  he  also  witnessed  a wonderful  performance 
of  “Tristan  and  Isolde”  in  Munich  (along  with  his  friends,  Freiherr 
von  Gersdorff  and  Fraulein  von  Meysenbug). 

’’“Richard  Wagner  etc.,”  sect.  4. 


84 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


him  to  come  to  the  rehearsals  soon  to  be  given.  Nietzsche  came, 
at  least  to  the  opening  performances — and  with  what  effect  I 
must  now  proceed  to  relate. 


rv 

To  understand  what  happened,  it  is  necessary  to  bear  in 
mind  all  Nietzsche’s  idealism  about  Bayreuth.  As  the  special 
scene  of  the  master’s  activity,  and  as  the  center  of  redeeming 
influences  that  were  to  go  out  to  the  German  people,  it  was 
almost  holy  in  his  eyes.  In  the  book  just  referred  to,  he 
pictured  gathered  there  the  more  serious,  nobler  spirits  of  his 
generation — men  and  women  who  had  their  home  elsewhere  than 
in  the  present  and  were  to  be  explained  and  justifled  otherwise 
than  by  the  present,  or,  to  use  another  metaphor,  were  like  a 
warm  current  in  a lake  which  a swimmer  encounters  showing 
that  a hot  spring  is  near  by.^®  You  shall  find — he  said  in  sub- 
stance— prepared  and  consecrated  spectators  at  the  summit  of 
their  happiness  and  collecting  energy  for  still  higher  achieve- 
ment ; you  shall  find  the  most  devoted  sacrifice  of  artists,  and 
the  victorious  creator  of  a work  which  is  itself  the  result  of 
victories  all  along  the  aesthetic  line — will  it  not  be  almost  like 
magic  to  witness  such  a phenomenon  in  the  present  time  ? Must 
not  those  who  participate  be  transformed  and  renewed,  and  be 
ready  themselves  to  transform  and  renew  in  other  fields  of 
life  ? Whatever  misgivings  lurked  in  his  mind,  he  was  still 
loyal. 

Yet  what  did  he  find  when  the  Bayreuth  performances 
began?  I give  the  bare,  brutal  facts,  as  they  are  reported  by 
his  sister  and  other  credible  witnesses.  The  main  distinction 
of  a large  number  of  those  present  seemed  to  be  that  they  were 
able  to  pay  the  necessary  nine  hundred  marks  for  the  twelve 
performances.  Some  of  the  auditors  bore  great  names — the 
German  Emperor  was  present,  and  he  drew  a whole  court  in 
his  train.  Splendid  toilets  were  observable — Marienbad  in  par- 
ticular seemed  to  have  sent  over  a goodly  number  of  its  stoutish 
habitues  (bankers  and  men  of  leisure,  with  their  wives)  : on 
round  paunches  dangled  heavy  gold  chains,  on  high-swelling 
bosoms  shone  luxurious  jewels,  costly  diamonds.  In  fact  the 

Ibid.,  sect.  4. 


Ibid.,  sect.  1. 


RELATIONS  WITH  WAGNER 


85 


audiences  were  not  unlike  those  of  a first  night  at  the  opera 
generally.  There  was,  it  is  true,  a sprinkling  of  notable 
painters  and  musicians;  and  then  there  were  fanatical  Wag- 
nerians,  with  pale  faces  and  waving  manes,  who  were  almost 
ready  to  threaten  violence,  if  criticism  of  the  master  or  his  work 
was  made.  Intrigues  between  artists  were  to  be  overheard  (or 
heard  of) — exclamations  of  wounded  vanity.  In  general  there 
was  a kind  of  artificiality  in  the  enthusiasm.  The  performances 
themselves  were  halting.  Wagner  was  too  preoccupied  and 
hurried  to  have  any  real  intercourse  with  Nietzsche,  and  con- 
tented himself  with  loud  and  extravagant  praise  of  his  book — 
and  this  jarred  on  Nietzsche  and  untuned  him  the  more.  More- 
over, the  master  appeared  in  an  unpleasantly  realistic  light — 
the  air  of  repose  was  lacking,  he  had  become  stage-manager  and 
even  journalist ; he  was  flattering  national  passions,  too,  showing 
himself  anti-French  and  anti-Semitic.  It  was  hard  for  Nietzsche 
to  endure;  and  after  the  first  performances,  he  went  off  into 
the  Bohemian  Forest,  burying  himself  at  Klingenbrunn  for  ten 
days,  and  noting  down  a few  thoughts  in  a new  vein.  Then 
he  came  back  to  Bayreuth  and  tried  again — but  to  no  avail,  and, 
before  the  cycle  of  representations  had  finished,  he  left  the 
town  never  to  return.  It  was  the  beginning  of  the  end. 

If  we  let  this  episode  stand  for  more  than  it  did  at  the 
moment,  for  the  whole  break  with  Wagner,  we  may  say  that 
the  causes  of  the  break  were  threefold : he  was  disappointed 
with  the  man,  with  his  art,  and  with  his  way  of  thinking. 
Wagner  had  already  proved  at  times  to  be  a somewhat  imperious 
and  exacting  nature.  At  the  start  Nietzsche  responded  to 
whatever  was  asked,  and  was  even  tender  of  the  master’s 
peculiarities.  He  yielded  slightly,  for  instance,  to  Wagner’s 
anti-Semitism,  though  going  contrary  to  his  own  instincts  in 
doing  so.^  Once,  whether  for  this  or  other  reasons — in  any 
case,  to  avoid  giving  offense  to  Wagner — he  gave  up  a projected 
journey  with  a son  of  Mendelssohn’s  to  Greece;^  and  at  other 
times  he  joined  with  friends  in  considering  how  best  to  spare 
one  who  was  so  easily  touched.^  But  the  time  came  when  he 

See  Arthur  Drews,  'Nietzsches  Philosophie,  p.  160. 

So  Richter,  op.  cit.,  p.  45. 

Brief e,  II,  207. 


86 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


felt  that  Wagner  was  too  insistent — suspicious,  too,  where  there 
was  no  need  to  be ; if  he  made  any  assertion  of  independence, 
Wagner  seemed  to  resent  it.  The  difficulties  were  smoothed 
over  while  Wagner  was  near  at  hand  in  Tribschen,  but  when 
he  removed  to  Bayreuth  (1872),  misunderstandings  sometimes 
lingered.  Invitations  involving  so  long  a journey  he  could  not 
always  accept,  and  sometimes  he  was  not  exactly  in  the  mood 
for  accepting  them.  We  find  him  touched,  for  instance,  on 
hearing  that  Wagner  had  spoken  coolly,  and  as  if  disappointed, 
about  “The  Use  and  Harm  of  History  for  Life,”  because  there 
had  been  no  mention  of  his  [Wagner’s]  special  cause  in  it;  and 
once,  when  a friend  told  him  that  Wagner  was  taking  it  ill 
that  he  had  not  accepted  an  invitation,  he  replied  that  while 
he  could  not  conceive  how  any  one  could  be  more  loyal  to 
Wagner  than  he  was  (if  he  could  be,  he  would  be),  yet  he  must 
keep  his  freedom  in  minor  points  and  abstain  from  too  frequent 
personal  intercourse  to  the  very  end  of  preserving  his  loyalty 
in  the  higher  sense.^  Two  or  three  other  circumstances  may 
be  mentioned.  During  one  of  his  visits  to  Bayreuth,  Nietzsche 
played  the  “Triumphlied”  of  Brahms,  which  he  particularly 
liked.  Wagner  was  not  pleased,  and  fell  into  a passion  at 
Nietzsche’s  praise — showed  himself  “not  great,”  as  Nietzsche 
remarked  at  the  time  to  his  sister.  Then  Wagner’s  stories  and 
jokes  in  broad  Saxon  sometimes  offended  him — and  when 
Wagner  saw  this,  he  seemed  to  ply  them  the  more.  In  truth 
Wagner  was  a little  of  a Bohemian  in  manners  and  conversa- 
tion, and  his  occasional  rudeness  and  coarseness  wounded  Nietz- 
sche’s ideal  sentiment  about  him.^  Further,  though,  as  stated, 
Nietzsche  was  slightly  influenced,  he  could  not  really  follow 
Wagner  in  his  aversion  for  the  Jews.  Nothing  perhaps  shows 
better  his  natural  nobility  than  his  practically  lifelong  superi- 
ority to  anti-Semitism — for  though  many  excuses  can  be  given 
for  this  sentiment,  no  noble  nature  can  share  it. 

But  doubts  were  also  insinuating  themselves  as  to  Wagner’s 
art.  Was  there  not  acting  in  it  at  times,  striving  for  effect? 
The  ecstatic  seemed  often  violent,  was  not  sufficiently  naive.® 

^UUd.,  I,  236. 

Cf.  Drews,  op.  cit.,  pp.  160-2;  Theobald  Ziegler,  op.  cit.,  pp.  65-6. 

“ Werke,  X,  433,  § 313;  cf.  Joyful  Science,  § 368. 


RELATIONS  WITH  WAGNER 


87 


Moreover,  was  Wagner  really  true  to  the  theory  of  the  relation 
between  music  and  words?  “Danger  lest  the  motives  for  the 
movement  of  the  music  should  lie  in  the  movements  and  actions 
of  the  drama,  lest  the  music  should  be  led  instead  of  leading.” 
Were  there  even  possible  contradictions  in  the  idea  of  “music 
drama”? The  relation  between  music  and  words  might  be 
organic  in  a song,  but  how  about  a drama  ? The  idea  hovered 
in  Nietzsche ’s  mind  of  a symphony  covering  itself  with  a drama, 
as  a melody  does  with  the  words  of  a song — there  were  sugges- 
tions of  such  a thing  in  the  old  Dionysian  chorus ; “ but  Wagner, 
he  felt,  was  inclining  to  make  the  music  a means  of  illustrating 
the  drama — and  this  was  to  forget  the  lyric,  Dionysiac  quality 
of  music  altogether,  and  to  bring  “music-drama”  down  to  the 
level  of  old-time  opera  (only  linking  the  music  a little  closer 
to  the  words  and  situations,  and  dispensing  with  trills  and 
arias  that  had  no  sense).  In  time  Nietzsche  came  to  the  clear, 
positive  conclusion  that  either  the  music  must  dominate,  or  the 
drama  must  dominate,  that  parallelism  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion ; and  now  he  has  feelings  that  way,  and  thinks  that  with 
Wagner  the  organic  unity  is  in  the  drama  and  often  fails  to 
reach  the  music.^“  Wagner  himself  once  said,  “The  nature  of 
the  subject  could  not  induce  me,  in  sketching  my  scenes,  to 
consider  in  advance  their  adaptability  to  any  particular  musical 
form,  the  kind  of  musical  treatment  being,  in  every  case,  sug- 
gested by  the  scenes  themselves.  ” So  far  as  this  was  really 
Wagner’s  practice,  the  conclusion  is  inevitable:  he  starts  with 
scenes,  i.e.,  dramatic  material,  and  then  finds  musical  tones 
appropriate  to  them,  which  is  just  to  reverse  the  method  and 
theory  of  music  in  which  Nietzsche,  and  Schopenhauer  before 
him,  believed — and,  as  Nietzsche  at  first  supposed,  Wagner  also. 

Besides  all  this,  Nietzsche  came  to  have  doubts  as  to  Wag- 
ner’s general  attitude  and  way  of  thinking.  Was  he  main- 
taining his  old  heroic  attitude  to  existing  German  life?  Was  he 
not  compromising,  making  too  much  of  the  Emperor’s  favor, 

2 0 lYgfjce,  X,  436-40. 

” Ibid.,  X,  434,  § 315. 

Ibid.,  XI,  101-2,  §§  313-4. 

^<’Ibid.,  XI,  93,  § 276. 

Ibid.,  X,  433,  § 310. 

I borrow  this  passage  from  the  art.,  “Wagner,”  in  the  Encyclopedia 
Britannica  (9th  ed.). 


88 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


making  too  much  of  Bismarck,  becoming  too  patriotic  ? And 
did  they  really  think  alike,  he  and  Wagner,  as  to  the  culture 
to  be?  Was  Wagner  aiming  at  a renovated  humanity,  or  was 
his  art  rather  a way  of  escaping  from  reality,  an  end  in  itself? 
He  puts  down  propositions  like  these  as  if  to  look  at,  consider 
them:  Wagner’s  art  is  something  like  a flight  from  this  world — 
it  denies,  does  not  transflgure  the  world.  Directly  it  does  not 
work  morally,  and  indirectly  it  has  a quietistic  effect.  Wagner 
only  wants  to  get  a place  for  his  art  in  the  world.  The  kind 
of  culture  that  would  be  introduced  would  resemble  that  of 
a monastery — its  disciples  would  be  a sect,  without  part  in 
the  world  around  them.  There  would  come  a sort  of  Christianity 
over  again — was  not  this  art  a sort  of  pale  dying  Christianity, 
with  plenty  of  magical  gleams  and  enchantments,  but  little  clear 
sunlight?  Can  a man  actually  be  made  better  by  this  art  and 
by  Schopenhauer’s  philosophy?  Perhaps  Nietzsche  was  hardly 
aware  in  all  this  how  far  he  was  changing — moving  away  from 
the  view  that  reality  was  essentially  unalterable  and  simply  to 
be  made  endurable  by  art.  A couple  of  years  after  the 
Bayreuth  opening,  he  said,  “ Wagnerians  do  not  wish  to  change 
anything  in  themselves,  live  in  disgust  with  what  is  stale,  con- 
ventional, brutal.  Art  is  to  lift  them  as  by  magic  above  it  all 
for  the  time  being.  Weakness  of  will”^* — but  he  has  a pre- 
sentiment to  this  effect  now.  He  is  also  uneasy  about  Wagner’s 
religious  tendencies.  He  had  thought  him  atheist,  like  himself 
and  Schopenhauer,^®  had  said,  “Wagner  is  a modern  man  and 
is  not  able  to  encourage  himself  by  believing  in  God.  He  does 
not  cherish  the  idea  that  he  is  in  the  hands  of  a good  Being, 
but  he  believes  in  himself.  ’ ’ But  now  he  has  to  own  that 

Wagner’s  art  is  in  principle  the  old  religion  over  again,  “ideal- 
ized Christianity  of  the  Catholic  sort.  ” He  had  been  trying 
to  put  a favorable  interpretation  on  the  reactionary  elements 
in  him — the  place  given  to  the  marvelous,  to  mediaeval  Chris- 

TFer/ce,  X,  443;  Drews,  op.  cit.,  p.  163. 

Werke,  X,  448-9,  § 353. 

Ihid.,  XI,  99,  § 302. 

Cf.  Nietzsche’s  sister’s  reference  to  intimate  conversations  which 
Wagner  had  held  with  Nietzsche  and  his  friends,  Werke  (pocket  ed. ),  III, 
xxiv. 

= « Werke,  X,  441-2,  § 329. 

Ihid.,  X,  448,  § 352. 


RELATIONS  WITH  WAGNER 


89 


tianity,  to  Buddhism,  as  well  as  to  princes  ^ — but  at  last  they 
proved  too  much.  We  today  can  see  that  “Parsifal”  was  a 
further,  more  pronounced  expression  of  the  same  tendencies; 
but  “Parsifal”  came  later. 

A variety  of  dissatisfactions  and  doubts  were  thus  at  work 
in  Nietzsche’s  mind,  and  the  revulsion  at  Bayreuth  in  1876 
was  only  a culminating  episode.^ 

I have  said  that  Nietzsche  left  Bayreuth  never  to  return. 
This  does  not  mean,  however,  that  there  was  an  open  break  with 
Wagner.  The  two  met  in  Sorrento  the  following  autumn,  and 
their  relations  were  outwardly  much  as  of  old.  But  the  old 
warm  sympathy  no  longer  existed  between  them — and  one  inci- 
dent estranged  Nietzsche  the  more.  Wagner  was  now  at  work 
on  “Parsifal,”  and,  as  if  aware  that  the  composition  of  a play 
of  just  this  character  was  hardly  in  keeping  with  the  views 
he  had  so  often  expressed,  he  sought  to  explain  to  Nietzsche 
certain  religious  sensations  he  had  been  having,  certain  inclina- 
tions to  Christian  dogmas — as,  for  instance,  how  he  had  been 
edified  by  the  celebration  of  the  Lord’s  Supper.  Nietzsche 
could  only  listen  in  silence — it  seemed  to  him  impossible  that 
one  who  had  been  so  outspoken  and  so  thorough  in  his  unbelief 
could  go  back;  he  thought  that  Wagner  was  practising  on 
himself.  It  was  another  disillusionment.  He  noted  down:  “I 
am  not  able  to  recognize  any  kind  of  greatness  which  does  not 
include  honesty  with  oneself;  playing  a part  inspires  me  with, 
disgust ; if  I discover  anything  of  this  order  in  a man,  all  his 
performances  count  for  nothing;  I know  that  they  have  every- 
where down  at  bottom  this  theatrical  character.”^®''  Despite 
even  this  there  was  no  open  break.  This  came  two  years  later 
still — and  in  connection  with  a singular  coincidence.  Nietzsche 
had  finished  a new  book.  Human,  All-too-Human  (the  first 
product  of  what  we  may  call  his  second  period),  and  was 
sending  copies  of  it  to  Wagner  and  Frau  Cosima  in  Bayreuth, 
along  with  some  humorous  verses  of  dedication.  But  exactly 
at  the  same  time  there  came  to  him  from  Wagner  a beautiful 
copy  of  the  text  of  “Parsifal,”  with  the  inscription,  “Cordial 
greetings  and  wishes  to  his  dear  friend  Friedrich  Nietzsche,” 
and  signed  “Richard  Wagner,  Oberkirchenrath  [member  of  the 
lUd.,  X,  457-8,  § 365. 


’‘^Werke  (pocket  ed. ),  III,  xxiii. 


90 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


high  ecclesiastical  consistory].”  The  ecclesiastical  reference 
was  too  much  for  Nietzsche,  and  it  seemed  almost  like  a chal- 
lenge. Referring  to  the  incident  ten  years  afterwards,  he  said, 
“This  crossing  of  two  books — it  seemed  as  if  I heard  with  it 
an  ominous  sound.  Was  it  not  as  if  swords  crossed?  ...  At 
any  rate  we  both  took  it  so ; for  we  both  kept  silent.  ” So 
far  as  I know,  there  was  no  direct  interchange  between  the 
two  men  thereafter.  Wagner  was  undoubtedly  displeased  by 
the  new  manner  and  tone  of  Nietzsche’s  book,  its  almost  ex- 
clusively critical  character,  and  Nietzsche  on  his  side  could 
only  say  to  himself,  “Incredible!  Wagner  has  become  pious.” 
“Parsifal,”  now  in  its  final  form,  was  in  truth  not  only  Chris- 
tian, it  was  Buddhistie,^^ — it  was  a glorification  of  celibacy,  and 
implied  an  aversion  to  the  fundamental  premises  of  life ; it  was 
pessimist,  Sehopenhauerian,  in  the  worse  senses  of  those  words. 
For  by  this  time — and  really,  except  for  a brief  space,  always — 
life  was  a supreme  end  to  Nietzsche,  and  he  revolted  against 
those  who  would  unnerve  and  weaken  it.  He  thought  they 
exercised  a corrupting  influence,  and  he  felt  the  odor  of  cor- 
ruption in  “Parsifal.”  Once  he  exclaims,  “The  preaching  of 
chastity  [i.e.,  celibacy]  is  an  incitement  to  the  unnatural:  I 
despise  every  one  who  does  not  feel  ‘Parsifal’  as  an  attack  on 
morality  [he  is  thinking,  of  course,  of  those  who  have  some 
understanding  of  “Parsifal,”  not  of  the  common  run  of  our 
opera-goers].  Wagner’s  influence,  he  feared,  would  ultimately 
coalesce  with  the  stream  which  arises  “the  other  side  of  the 
mountains  and  knows  also  how  to  flow  over  mountains.” 
“Parsifal”  was  not,  to  him,  a genuine  German  product,  it  was 
“Rome — Rome’s  faith  without  words. 

The  whole  experience  shook  Nietzsche  profoundly.  In  fact 
it  became  a turning-point — perhaps  the  great  turning-point 
in  his  life.  His  faith  in  the  future,  in  art  as  a redeeming 
agency  and  preparation  for  the  future,  his  faith,  I had  almost 
said,  in  himself,  hung  on  Wagner.  “As  I went  further  on  by 

Ecce  Homo,  III,  iii,  § 5. 

*'  Drews  thinks  Buddhistic  rather  than  Christian  (op.  cit.,  pp.  188-92), 
agreeing  with  Pastor  Kalthoff  (Nietzsche  und  die  Kulturprobleme  unseref 
Zeii)  that  the  Christian  element  is  purely  decorative. 

‘““Nietzsche  contra  Wagner,”  vii,  §3. 

Werke,  XI,  101,  § 311,  “Nietzsche  contra  Wagner,”  vii,  § 1. 


RELATIONS  WITH  WAGNER 


91 


myself,”  he  wrote  later,  “I  trembled;  before  long  I was  ill, 
more  than  ill,  namely  weary — weary  from  the  irresistible  dis- 
illusionment about  everything  that  remains  as  inspiration  to 
us  modern  men,  about  the  everywhere  wasted  force,  labor,  hope, 
youth,  love,  weary  from  disgust  with  the  whole  idealistic  falsi- 
fication and  effeminacy  of  conscience,  which  had  again  won  the 
victory  over  one  of  our  bravest;  weary  finally  and  not  least 
from  the  grief  of  a pitiless  suspicion — that  I was  henceforth 
condemned  to  mistrust  more  deeply,  to  despise  more  deeply, 
to  be  more  deeply  alone,  than  ever  before.  For  I had  had  no 
one  but  Richard  Wagner.”^  He  confessed  to  a friend,  “I 
have  experienced  so  much  in  relation  to  this  man  and  his  art: 
it  was  a whole  long  passion — I find  no  other  word  for  it.  The 
renunciation  required,  the  finding  myself  again  which  at  last 
became  necessary,  belongs  to  the  hardest  and  most  melancholy 
things  that  fate  has  brought  me.”^  His  mistake  had  been, 
he  bitterly  said,  that  he  came  to  Bayreuth  with  an  ideal.^®  He 
had  painted  an  “ideal  monstrosity”;  “I  have  had  the  fate  of 
idealists,  whose  object  is  spoiled  for  them  by  the  very  fact  that 
they  have  made  so  much  of  it.  ’ ’ 

Yes,  Nietzsche  was  ill — ill  spiritually  and  ill  physically; 
indeed  he  had  more  or  less  suffered  physically  ever  since  his 
period  of  service  in  the  Franco-Prussian  war,  as  noted  in  the 
opening  chapter.  In  the  summer  of  1875  he  had  been  obliged 
to  go  to  a cure  in  the  Black  Forest — and  now  (1876)  he  has 
to  ask  for  a year’s  leave  from  the  University.™  This  is  granted 
him  with  marked  signs  of  favor  from  the  authorities,  and  he 
goes  to  Italy 

“Nietzsche  contra  Wagner,”  viii,  § 1. 

" Lou  Andreas-Salomg,  Friedrich  Nietzsche  in  seinen  Werken,  pp.  84-6. 

Werke,  XI,  122,  § 385. 

” Ibid.,  XI,  121,  § 380. 

See  the  language  of  the  “Protokoll,”  as  cited  in  Werke  (pocket 
ed.),  Ill,  xvii. 


SECOND  PERIOD 


CHAPTER  IX 

GENERAL  MARKS  OF  THE  SECOND  PERIOD 

I 

Nietzsche  (now  at  the  age  of  thirty- two)  was  not  only  ill,  but 
self-distrustful — he  scarcely  knew  whether  he  had  a task  any 
more  or  the  right  to  one.^  And  as  a physician  on  occasion  sends 
his  patients  into  new  surroundings,  so  he,  physician  and  patient 
in  one,  now  sends  himself  to  a new  climate,  in  both  the  spiritual 
and  physical  senses  of  that  word.^  He  had  been  living,  he  felt, 
in  an  atmosphere  overcharged  with  idealism  and  emotion ; a cold 
water-cure  was  necessary.^  He  found  himself  with  an  uncom- 
mon desire  to  see  men  and  their  motives  as  they  actually  were.^ 
He  also  wanted  to  see  himself  more  objectively — was  ready  to 
take  sides  against  himself,  if  need  be,  and  to  be  hard  with 
himself ; he  had  had  his  fill  of  illusions.  Even  the  emotional 
attitude  to  objects  in  nature  went  against  him.®  He  understood 
the  mental  evolution  of  Sophocles — the  aversion  he  in  time 
acquired  to  pomp  and  show.®  In  other  words,  the  craving  for 
knowledge,  for  a cool,  clear  view  of  things,  became  uppermost 
in  him ; ideals,  ideal  aims,  great  expectations  took  a subordinate 
place.  “Unmercifully  I strode  over  wished-for  and  dreamed-of 
things  which  up  to  that  time  my  youth  had  loved,  unmercifully 
I went  on  my  way,  the  way  of  knowledge  at  any  cost. ” ^ “I 
took  sides  against  myself,  and  for  all  that  gave  me  pain  and 
was  hard.” ® 

* Preface,  § 3,  to  Mixed  Opinions  etc. 

“ Preface,  § 5,  to  ibid. 

^ Werlce,  XI,  123,  § 391. 

* Ibid.,  XI,  121,  §381;  cf.  123,  § 389. 

' Ibid.,  XI,  124,  § 394. 

® Werlce  (pocket  ed.),  IV,  469,  § 147. 

’’ Werke  (pocket  ed.),  Ill,  xxxiv. 

“ Preface,  § 4,  to  Mixed  Opinions  etc. 

92 


GENERAL  MARKS  OF  THE  SECOND  PERIOD  93 


All  this,  however,  implies  that  though  shaken  and  depressed 
he  was  not  disheartened.  The  strong  will  for  life  was  still  in 
him.  He  afterward  realized  that  he  had  simply  passed  from 
one  stage  of  his  life  to  another,  and  that  the  new  was  as  natural, 
and,  in  a way,  as  healthful  as  the  old.  As  early  as  1878  he 
could  write : “I  feel  as  if  I had  recovered  from  an  illness ; I 
think  with  unspeakable  sweet  emotion  of  Mozart’s  Requiem. 
I relish  simple  foods  again,”®  Again,  after  referring  to  his 
having  taken  sides  against  himself  and  his  predilection,  “A 
much  greater  piece  of  good  fortune  thereby  came  to  me  than 
that  on  which  I willingly  turned  my  back.  ’ ’ Later  he  makes 
the  general  observation : ‘ ‘ The  snake  that  cannot  shed  its  skin 
perishes.  Even  so  with  spirits  hindered  from  changing  their 
opinions — they  cease  to  be  spirit.  ’ ’ 

II 

It  is  only  summing  this  up  formally  to  say  that  Nietzsche 
now  passes  into  a new  period — one  which,  though  unintelligible 
apart  from  the  first,  is  strongly  contrasted  with  it.  It  lasts, 
roughly  speaking,  five  or  six  years  (from  1876  to  1881  or  1882). 
The  literary  output  of  it  is  fragmentary;  at  least  it  is  made 
up  of  fragments — we  have  no  longer  connected  treatises  like 
The  Birth  of  Tragedy,  or  “The  Use  and  Harm  of  History 
for  Life.”  Aside  from  the  demands  of  his  university  work,  he 
seems  unable  to  write  connectedly.  He  notes  down  his  thoughts 
at  odd  moments — often  when  out  on  his  walks  or  climbing.  As 
the  jottings  accumulate,  he  selects  from  them,  works  them  over, 
gives  them  a semblance  of  order,  and  makes  a book.  The  three 
books  which  belong  wholly  to  this  period,  and  two  more,  which 
may  be  said  to  make  the  transition  to  the  next,  consist  of 
aphorisms,  sometimes  covering  three  or  four  pages,  but  for  the 
most  part  so  brief  that  several  of  them  appear  on  a page.  They 
are  Human,  All-too-Human  (1878),  Mixed  Opinions  and  Say- 
ings (1879),  The  Wanderer  and  his  Shadow  (1879),^®  the  transi- 

° Werke  (pocket  ed.),  IV,  468,  § 143. 

“ Ihid.,  IV,  441-2,  § 22. 

“ Daivn  of  Day,  § 573. 

These  three  books  appeared  in  later  editions  in  two  volumes  with 
a common  title,  Human,  All-too-Human.  I cite,  however,  for  reasons  of 
convenience,  each  one  separately. 


94 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


tional  volumes  being  Dawn  of  Day  (1881),  Joyful  Science 
(1882).  The  first  of  these  books  follows  a certain  order,  treat- 
ing successively  of  “First  and  Last  Things,”  “The  History  of 
the  Moral  Sentiments,”  “The  Religious  Life,”  “Art  and 
Artists,”  “Signs  of  Higher  and  Lower  Culture,”  “Man  in  In- 
tercourse with  Others,”  “Wife  and  Child,”  “The  State,” 
“Man  Alone  with  Himself”;  and  the  two  succeeding  volumes 
follow,  though  less  certainly,  the  same  order.  In  Dawn  of  Day 
and  J oyful  Science,  order  of  any  kind  is  but  slightly  perceptible. 

Ill 

Before  taking  up  the  new  views  in  detail,  let  me  note  a few 
general  marks  of  the  period.  In  the  first  place,  the  spirit  of 
change  is  on  Nietzsche.  He  has  known  slight  changes  before ; 
now  it  is  a great  change.  Even  his  perspective  of  moral  values 
is  somewhat  altered.  He  does  not  think,  for  instance,  so  highly 
of  loyalty  as  he  had.  “I  have  not  the  talent  for  being  loyal, 
and,  what  is  worse,  not  even  the  vanity  to  wish  to  appear  so.” 
He  raises  the  general  question  whether  we  are  irrevocably 
bound  by  vows  of  allegiance  to  a God,  a prince,  a party,  a 
woman,  a religious  order,  an  artist,  a thinker, — whether  they 
were  not  hypothetical  vows,  with  the  unexpressed  presupposi- 
tion that  the  object  to  which  we  consecrated  ourselves  was  really 
what  we  supposed  it  to  be.  Are  we  obligated,  he  asks,  to  be 
loyal  to  our  errors,  even  when  we  see  that  by  this  loyalty  we 
infiict  injury  on  our  higher  self?  “No,  there  is  no  law,  no 
obligation  of  this  sort ; we  must  become  traitors,  practise  dis- 
loyalty, surrender  our  ideals.”  And  if  it  be  asked  why  those 
remaining  faithful  to  a conviction  are  admired,  while  others 
who  change  are  despised,  he  fears  the  answer  must  be  that  only 
motives  of  vulgar  advantage  or  personal  fear  are  supposed  to 
inspire  change — a poor  tribute,  he  thinks,  to  the  intellectual 
significance  of  convictions.^*  Indeed,  he  suspects  that  passion 
and  inertia  have  much  to  do  with  unchangeable  convictions, 
and  that  the  intellect,  aspiring  to  be  cool  and  just,  is  bound  to 
be  to  this  extent  their  enemy.  He  puts  his  ideal  in  words  like 
these;  “From  the  fire  [of  passion]  set  free,  we  move  on  im- 
pelled by  the  intellect  from  opinion  to  opinion,  through 
“ TTerfce  (pocket  ed.),  IV,  443,  §28.  Human,  etc.,  § 629. 


GENERAL  MARKS  OF  THE  SECOND  PERIOD 


95 


alternation  of  parties,  as  noble  traitors  to  all  things  that 
can  in  any  way  be  betrayed — and  yet  without  a feeling  of 
guilt.  ’ ’ 

Naturally  he  has  a fresh  sense  of  the  uncertainty  of  things. 
We  would  not  die  for  our  opinions,  he  remarks,  we  are  not  sure 
enough  of  them — though  we  might  for  the  right  to  change 
them.^®^  He  has  even  the  feeling  of  being  more  a wanderer 
than  a traveler — for  a traveler  has  a destination,  and  he  for 
the  time  has  none.^^  ^ He  tells  a parable,  to  which  he  gives  the 
title,  “The  worst  fate  of  a prophet”:  “For  twenty  years  he 
labored  to  convince  his  contemporaries  of  his  claims — at  last  he 
succeeded;  but  in  the  meantime  his  opponents  had  also  suc- 
ceeded— he  was  no  longer  convinced  about  himself.  ’ ’ He  says 

(and  here,  too,  we  may  be  sure,  he  is  thinking  of  himself)  : 
“This  thinker  needs  no  one  to  refute  him:  he  suffices  to  that 
end  himself.  ” I confess  that  in  reading  him  I have  some- 
times had  the  ironical  reflection  that  he  has  an  advantage  for 
the  student  over  most  thinkers,  in  that  you  have  only  to  read 
him  far  enough  to  find  him  criticising  himself! — most  philoso- 
phers leaving  the  most  necessary  task  of  criticising  them  to 
others.  Somewhat  in  this  line  he  suggests  an  unusual  ethics 
of  intellectual  procedure.  “We  criticise  a thinker  more  sharply 
when  he  advances  a proposition  that  is  displeasing  to  us;  and 
yet  it  would  be  more  reasonable  to  do  this,  when  his  proposition 
is  pleasing”  “ — so  easily,  he  means,  do  our  likes  and  dislikes 
take  us  in.  This  is  perhaps  also  what  he  means  in  the  paradox : 
“Convictions  are  more  dangerous  enemies  of  truth  than  false- 
hoods”^^— too  much  passion,  interest,  will  to  believe  lurk  in 
“convictions.”  From  a like  point  of  view,  he  finds  practical 
occupation  dangerous.  “He  who  has  much  to  do  keeps  his 
general  views  and  standpoints  almost  unchanged.”  This  is 
true  even  if  a person  “works  in  the  service  of  an  idea;  he  will 
no  longer  test  the  idea  itself,  he  has  no  longer  the  time  for 
doing  so ; yes,  it  is  against  his  interest  to  regard  it  as  in  general 
still  discussable.”  “ And  yet,  he  asks,  “wherein  does  the  great- 
ness of  a character  consist,  but  in  ability  to  take  sides  in  favor 

” Ibid.,  §§  636-7.  Ibid.,  § 249. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 333.  Human,  etc.,  § 484. 

” Human,  etc.,  § 638.  Ibid.,  § 483. 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  §193.  Ibid.,  §511. 


96 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


of  truth  even  against  himself?” “ “Never,”  he  charges  us, 
“hold  back  something,  or  hide  from  thyself  what  can  be  urged 
against  thy  thoughts!  Vow  to  thyself!  It  belongs  to  the  first 
honesty  of  thought.  Thou  must  every  day  conduct  thy  cam- 
paign against  thyself.  A victory  and  a fortress  won  are  not 
merely  thy  affair,  but  truth ’s — and  also  thy  defeat  is  not  merely 
thy  affair!”^  In  much  the  same  spirit  he  praises  the  strictness 
and  severity  of  science.  He  thinks  that  one  who  devotes  himself 
to  scientific  work  does  not  look  for  approval  of  his  success,  but 
only  for  censure  of  his  failures — like  the  soldier.^  He  points 
out  the  less  noble  motives  in  scholarly  procedure:  “One  person 
holds  fast  to  a view,  because  he  imagines  that  he  has  come  on 
it  himself,  another  because  he  has  learned  it  with  labor  and  is 
proud  to  have  grasped  it — both  then  from  vanity.”^® 

We  hear  tones  of  irony,  too.  With  a humiliating  sense  of 
disillusionment,  he,  as  it  were,  takes  it  out  in  extravagances. 
He  admitted  in  later  years  that  in  reaction  from  youthful  en- 
thusiasms one  easily  goes  too  far;  “one  is  angry  on  account  of 
one ’s  youthful  self-deception,  as  if  it  had  been  a sort  of  dishonest 
blindness,  and  by  way  of  compensation  is  for  a long  time  unrea- 
sonable and  mistrustful  toward  oneself  and  on  one’s  guard 
against  all  beautiful  feelings.  ” He  speaks  almost  like  a cynic  at 
times  of  the,part  which  unreason  plays  in  human  affairs,^  and 
once  quotes,  not  without  malicious  pleasure,  a parody,  which  he 
calls  the  most  serious  he  ever  heard:  “In  the  beginning  was 
unreason,  and  the  unreason  was  with  God,  and  was  God 
(divine).”  ® Particularly  does  he  let  his  irony  play  on  idealists: 
they  put  their  rainbow  colors  on  everything ; if  they  are  thrown 
out  of  their  heaven,  they  make  out  of  hell  an  ideal — they  are 
incurable.®®  He  is  disgusted  with  his  own  previous  moral  arro- 
gance ; he  wants  to  have  a better  knowledge  of  what  he  had 
despised — to  be  juster  to  his  own  time,  of  which  he  had  said 
so  many  hard  things.®^  For  all  this,  he  shows  his  identity  with 
his  former  self  in  speaking  of  the  power  to  lift  things  into  the 
ideal  as  man’s  fairest  power,  though  he  adds  that  we  should 


Werke  (pocket  ed.),  IV,  450,  § 66. 
Dawn  of  Day,  § 370. 

““  Joyful  Science,  § 293. 

Human,  etc.,  § 527. 

" Werke,,  XIV,  376-7,  § 256. 


Human,  etc.,  § 450. 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 22. 
” Ibid.,  § 23. 

Werke,  XII,  213,  § 449. 


GENERAL  MARKS  OF  THE  SECOND  PERIOD  97 

not  let  it  tyrannize  over  us,  since  if  we  do,  truth  will  some  day 
leave  us,  declaring  “thou  liar  from  the  beginning,  what  have 
I to  do  with  thee  ? ” 

His  strictly  independent  career  now  begins.  Up  to  this 
time,  he  has  been  largely  under  the  shadow  of  Schopenhauer 
and  Wagner.  Though  never  their  slave,  he  now  first  stands 
quite  on  his  own  feet.“  We  find  interesting  general  remarks 
on  education,  in  which  he  puts  what  we  receive  from  others  in 
a secondary  place.  The  young  man,  he  notes,  impatient  of 
results,  takes  his  picture  of  men  and  things  ready-made  from 
some  philosopher  or  poet — he  learns  much  thereby,  but  not  a 
great  deal  about  himself.  So  far  as  he  is  to  be  a thinker,  how- 
ever, he  must  educate  himself.  The  process  of  education  at  others’ 
hands  is  either  an  experiment  on  something  unknown,  or  else 
a kind  of  leveling  to  bring  the  new  being  into  harmony  with 
prevailing  habits  and  customs;  in  either  case  it  is  a task  that 
does  not  belong  to  a thinker,  but  to  parents  and  teachers,  whom 
some  one  with  audacious  honesty  has  called  7ios  ennemis  na- 
turels.  It  is  only  after  one  has  been  “educated”  the  longest 
while,  that  one  discovers  oneself — and  then  a thinker  may  well 
be  helpful,  not  as  a teacher,  but  as  one  who  has  taught  himself 
and  has  experience.^^  Nietzsche  even  raises  the  question 
whether  in  this  age  of  books  teachers  of  the  ordinary  sort  are 
not  almost  dispensable.^  As  few  persons  as  possible,  he  ex- 
claims between  productive  minds  and  those  hungry  and  ready 
to  receive ! Let  us  look  on  the  teacher  as  at  best  a necessary 
evil,  like  the  tradesman — an  evil  to  be  reduced  to  its  smallest 
possible  proportions ! Views  like  these,  half  jest,  half  earnest, 
are  the  reflection  of  his  personal  experience.  It  is  not  that  he 
quite  turns  his  back  on  his  former  teachers — after  he  has  once 
found  himself,  he  thinks  there  had  been  no  harm  in  being  among 
the  enthusiasts  and  living  in  their  equatorial  zone  for  a while : 
he  had  in  this  way  taken  a step  towards  that  cosmopolitanism 
of  mind  which  without  presumption  might  say,  “Nothing  be- 
longing to  the  mind  is  any  longer  foreign  to  me.”^®  The  very 
extremes  of  a man,  he  feels,  may  further  the  -truth — now  we 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 345.  Ibid.,  § 282. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  §§  266-7.  Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 204. 

Ibid.,  § 180. 


98 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


see  one  side  of  a thing  and  now  the  other,  we  cannot  very  well 
see  both  at  once.^^ 

I have  said  that  now  Nietzsche  is  first  independent.  The 
independence,  however,  shows  itself  more  negatively  than  posi- 
tively— the  period  is  a critical  rather  than  a constructive  one. 
There  is  more  analysis  in  it — particularly  psychological  analysis 
— than  anything  else.  “Reflection  about  the  human,  the  all-too 
human,  or,  as  the  scientific  phrase  is,  the  psychological  view” — 
such  is  in  effect  a description  of  its  first  and  most  characteristic 
book.^  He  is  not  so  much  in  things  and  movements,  as  looking 
at  them,  above  all  at  the  human  element  in  them.  If  he  has 
construction  in  mind,  it  is  principally  in  seeing  what  there  is 
to  construct  out  of — and  in  ruthlessly  rejecting  unsound  ma- 
terial, all  the  vain  imaginations  of  men.  Sometimes  it  is  called 
a positivistic  stage — and  there  is  a plain  reaction  against  far 
flights  of  speculation ; he  wants  life  to  rest  on  what  is  sure, 
demonstrable,  not  on  the  remote,  indefinite,  cloud-like  — but 
he  is  not  positivist  in  any  party  sense.  So  it  may  be  called  a 
scientific  stage — for  at  no  other  time  does  he  give  so  high  a 
place  to  science ; still  he  does  not  become  master  in  any  par- 
ticular branch  of  scientific  knowledge,®  and  he  thinks  that  the 
best  and  healthiest  thing  in  science  is,  as  in  the  mountains,  the 
keen  air  that  blows  there.^“ 

Partly  perhaps  because  of  the  new  turn  his  mind  is  taking, 
he  appreciates  the  English  as  he  never  had  before.  He  even 
ventures  to  say  that  they  are  ahead  of  all  other  peoples  in 
philosophy,  natural  science,  history,  in  the  field  of  discovery, 
and  in  the  spreading  of  culture, and  he  speaks  with  admira- 
tion of  the  distinguished  scholars  among  them  who  write  scien- 
tific books  for  the  people  “ — men,  we  must  suppose,  of  the  type 
of  Huxley  and  Tyndall.  The  French,  too,  come  in  for  praise. 
We  find  frequent  references  to  Montaigne,  La  Rochefoucauld, 
La  Bruyere,  Fontenelle,  Vauvenargues,  Chamfort.  His  style 
of  composition  is  perhaps  influenced  by  his  study  of  these 
writers,  for  it  has  noticeably  gained  in  simplieity  and  clearness, 
and  is  sometimes  exquisitely  polished — he  owns  himself  that  it 
has  been  often  swollen  and  turgid  before.  He  dedicates  Human, 

Ibid.,  §79.  "‘Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 205. 

*•  Human,  etc.,  § 35.  “ Werke,  XI,  136-7,  § 435. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  §§  202-3,  310.  Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 184. 


GENERAL  MARKS  OF  THE  SECOND  PERIOD  99 


All-too-Human  to  the  memory  of  a Frenchman,  the  hundredth 
anniversary  of  whose  death  was  about  to  occur,  Voltaire,  calling 
him  “one  of  the  greatest  liberators  of  the  mind.” 

rv 

It  is  a period  which  Professor  Ziegler  calls  his  “leanest.” 
Professor  Riehl,  on  the  other  hand,  finds  it  in  many  respects 
the  most  attractive  and  valuable ; and  Jacob  Burekhardt  pro- 
nounced Human,  All-ioo-Human  his  “sovereign  book.”  Much 
depends  on  the  point  of  view.  If  one  has  above  all  the  critical 
temper,  if  one  is  bent  on  analysis  and  skeptical  of  enthusiasm, 
if  one  distrusts  metaphysics  and  high-soaring  aims,  in  other 
words  if  one  is  a typical  scholar  or  scientific  man,  the  writings 
of  this  period  are  likely  to  appeal  to  him  more  than  any  others. 
Nietzsche  is  now  anti-metaphysical,  anti-mystical,  anti-romantic 
a I’outrance.  His  passion  for  actuality  makes  him  explore  all 
the  corners  of  life  where  the  ideal  throws  a glamor  over  the 
real  and  rout  it  out.  Or,  to  use  a sardonic  metaphor  which  he 
himself  employs  in  a later  retrospect,  he  lays  one  error  after 
another  “on  ice” — with  the  result  that  it  is  “not  refuted,  but 
freezes.”  It  is  so,  he  says,  with  “the  genius,”  with  “the 
saint,”  with  “the  hero”;  it  is  so  finally  with  “belief,”  with 
so-called  “convictions”;  even  “pity”  cools  off  considerably, 
and  “the  thing  in  itself”  freezes  almost  every where.^^  Yet  a 
deep-seeing  poet  has  said, 

“We  all  are  changed  by  slow  degrees, 

All  but  the  basis  of  the  soul,” 

and  it  is  true  of  Nietzsche.  Actuality  is  not  the  whole  of 
possible  existence,  and  the  passion  for  actuality  was  never  the 
whole  nor  the  deepest  thing  in  Nietzsche.  Later  on  he  came 
to  realize  this  distinctly.  His  present  phase  is  really  one  of 
transition — Riehl  calls  it  an  interlude.*^*  All  the  same,  we 
may  as  well  attend  to  it  for  the  time,  as  if  no  other  were  to 
follow — in  fact  be  like  Nietzsche  himself,  who  at  first  does  not 
know  whether  anything  more  is  to  come.  He  ventures  a sum- 
mary description  of  how  men  develop  intellectually  during 
their  first  thirty  years: — Beginning  with  religious  impulses  as 
children  and  perhaps  reaching  the  height  of  their  impression- 
Ecce  Homo,  III,  iii,  § 1. 

“Riehl,  op.  cit.,  p.  58;  cf.  Ziegler,  op.  cit.,  pp.  101-2. 


100 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


ability  at  the  age  of  ten,  tending  thereafter  in  a more  scientific 
direction  and  keeping  their  religion  in  a weaker,  pantheistic 
form,  they  at  last  leave  the  ideas  of  God,  immortality,  and  the 
like  quite  behind,  but  yield  to  the  charms  of  a metaphysical 
philosophy.  In  course  of  time,  however,  this  too  becomes  in- 
credible. On  the  other  hand,  art  appears  to  last,  and  for  a 
while  the  metaphysics  lingers  as  a form  of  art  or  as  a trans- 
figuring artistic  mood.  But  the  scientific  sense  grows  ever  more 
imperative  and  conducts  the  full-grown  man  to  natural  science 
and  history  and  especially  into  strictest  methods  of  thinking, 
while  to  art  falls  an  ever  milder  and  more  modest  significance.^® 
Nietzsche  thinks  that  this  is  a kind  of  epitome  of  the  intel- 
lectual history  of  humanity — it  is  at  least,  we  may  say,  a sum- 
mary of  his  own  personal  history  down  to  and  into  his  second 
period. 

Nietzsche  had  a friend  at  this  time — really  since  1874 — by 
the  name  of  Paul  Ree.  He  was  a positivist  of  the  French  and 
English  type.  He  had  written  a book,  Psychological  Ohserva- 
iions,  which  impressed  Nietzsche,  and  during  the  winter  of 
1876-77  they  were  together  in  Sorrento,  where  Ree  wrote 
another  book.  The  Origin  of  the  Moral  Sentiments,  a copy  of 
which  he  presented  to  Nietzsche  with  the  inscription,  “To  the 
father  of  this  book  from  its  most  grateful  mother.”®  Un- 
doubtedly Nietzsche  influenced  him,  and  yet  he  as  certainly 
influenced  Nietzsche.  He  seems  to  have  particularly  directed 
Nietzsche’s  attention  to  Pascal  and  Voltaire  and  Prosper 
Merimee ; he  was  already  in  that  world  of  historical  study  and 
of  fine  psychological  analysis  which  Nietzsche  was  to  make  his 
own,  and  Nietzsche  once  humorously  dubbed  his  new  stand- 
point “ Reealismus.”  Yet  a radically  determining  influence 
may  be  doubted.**  Nietzsche’s  general  positivistic  tendency 
really  began  as  far  back  as  when  his  first  doubts  arose  as  to 
Schopenhauer’s  metaphysical  interpretation  of  the  will.  He 
speaks,  indeed,  of  his  “new  philosophy,”^®  but  he  is  aware  that 
“nature  makes  no  leaps,”  and  says  that  it  is  the  task  of  the 
biographer  to  remember  this  principle.^^  This  second  period 
is  only  relatively,  not  absolutely  distinguished  from  the  first.* 

Human,  etc.,  § 272.  WerJce  (pocket  ed.),  Ill,  xxxii. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 198. 


CHAPTER  X 


GENERAL  OUTLOOK,  AND  ULTIMATE  VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD 


I 

I CONSIDER  first  Nietzsche’s  general  outlook.  The  tragic  back- 
ground of  existence  still  remains  for  him;  I forbear  to  quote 
fresh  and  varied  statements  to  that  effect.^  His  views  of  the 
older  Greek  life  as  somber,  apart  from  the  influence  of  the 
myths,  is  also  continued;  only  through  art  did  man’s  lot  become 
enjoyable.^  Nietzsche  is  now,  however,  in  an  unhappy  state  of 
mind  about  art.  He  has  had  a disillusioning  experience,  and 
art  is  under  a shadow — to  this  extent,  an  easement  and  consola- 
tion is  gone.  It  is  not  that  he  expressly  abandons  his  former 
view,  but  it  ceases  to  have  relevance  to  the  existing  situation.^ 
For  the  moment  he  does  not  know  but  that  the  days  of  art  are 
over.^  In  answer  to  the  question,  why  it  continues  in  its  cus- 
tomary forms — music,  theaters,  picture-galleries,  novels,  poetry 
— he  says  in  a matter-of-fact  and  somewhat  cynical  way  that 
idle  people  find  it  hard  to  pass  their  time  without  it.  He  adds 
that  if  the  needs  of  these  people  were  not  met,  either  they 
would  not  strive  so  zealously  for  leisure,  and  envy  of  the  rich 
would  become  rarer — which  itself  would  be  a great  gain — or 
else  they  would  employ  their  leisure  in  thinking  a little — some- 
thing one  can  learn  and  unlearn — thinking,  for  example,  about 
the  sort  of  lives  they  are  leading,  their  social  relations,  their 
pleasures;  in  either  ease,  everybody,  with  the  exception  of  the 
artists,  would  be  better  off.^  He  has  more  or  less  satire  on 
artists  themselves,  or  at  least  criticism  of  them.  Men  of  science 

* Cf.,  for  example,  Human,  etc.,  §§  33,  71,  591;  Mixed  Opinions  etc., 

§ 22. 

^ Cf.  Human,  etc.,  §§  261,  154,  222. 

® Cf.  Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  §§  99,  174;  Human,  etc.,  § 276;  also  a 
passage  relating  to  Wagner  quoted  by  Drews  (op.  cit.,  p.  163)  which  I 
cannot  locate. 

* Cf.  Human,  etc.,  §§  222,  223,  236. 

° Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 175. 


101 


102  NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 

are  the  nobler  natures;  artists  are  effeminate  in  comparison® — 
and  he  puts  himself  out  of  their  category,  saying  that  they  “find 
us  non-artists  a little  too  sober.  Poetry  and  music  alike 
receive  slighting  comments.  Poets  are  not  worth  as  much  as 
they  seem  to  be:  they  throw  a veil  over  their  ideas,  and  we 
have  to  pay  for  the  veil  and  for  our  curiosity  to  get  behind  it.® 
Their  thoughts  often  use  a festive  wagon  of  rhythm,  because  of 
inability  to  go  afoot.®  He  doubts  whether  it  is  expedient  for 
philosophers  to  quote  from  them,  citing  Homer’s  dictum, 
“Singers  lie  much.”^®  He  suggests  that  poetry  may  have  had 
a utilitarian  and  even  superstitious  origin — rhythm,  like  musical 
melody  and  the  dance,  being  among  primitive  peoples  a way 
of  pleasing  the  Gods.^^  As  for  music,  he  systematically  forbade 
himself  for  a time  all  music  of  a romantic  sort,  thinking  that 
it  begot  too  many  desires  and  longings,  made  the  mind  unclear, 
feminized,  its  “eternal  feminine”  drawing  us — down!’®®  He 
has  even  occasional  sarcasm  for  the  genius.  A thinker  who 
takes  himself  in  this  way  may,  by  begetting  distrust  in  the 
cautious  and  sober  ways  of  science,  be  an  enemy  to  truth  ’® — 
Nietzsche  lays  stress,  as  he  never  has  before,  on  talents  and 
industry.’^’’  If  ever  he  speaks  of  “genius”  admiringly,  he  begs 
us  to  remember  that  we  must  keep  the  term  free  of  all 
mythological  and  mystical  associations.’®  The  danger  is  that 
surrounded  by  incense,  the  genius  begins  to  think  himself  some- 
thing superhuman;  he  develops  feelings  of  irresponsibility,  of 
exceptional  rights  and  superiority  to  criticism.’®  Nietzsche 
mentions  Napoleon  in  this  connection ; but  the  man  who  is 
principally  in  his  mind  is  undoubtedly  Wagner.  Professor 
Riehl  asserts  that  wherever  the  word  “artist”  occurs  in  Human, 
All-too-Human,  Nietzsche  had  first  written  “Wagner.””  In 
fact  he  contemplated  a new  book  on  Wagner — one  that  would 
in  a way  expiate  his  former  laudation  (for  he  felt  that  he  had 
led  many  astray)  ; and  now  that  Wagner  was  victorious,  he 
could  criticise  him  without  violating  his  rules  of  literary  war- 

” Ihid.,  §§  205-6.  ” Preface,  § 3,  to  Mixed  Opinions  etc. 

’’  Human,  etc.,  § 236.  “ Human,  etc.,  § 635. 

' The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 105.  “ Ibid.,  §§  163,  165. 

' Human,  etc.,  § 180.  Ibid.,  § 231. 

Joyful  flcience,  §84.  Ibid.,  §164;  cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 548. 

” Ibid.,  § 84.  ” Op.  cit.,  pp.  59,  60. 


GENERAL  OUTLOOK 


103 


fare  — extended  preparatory  notes  for  the  book  are  to  be 
found  in  his  published  remains.^®  He  did  not,  of  course,  com- 
pletely identify  the  general  with  the  particular — ^he  still  feels 
the  greatness  of  the  real  genius,®  sees  the  place  of  the  poet, 
and  gives  a beautiful  picture  of  the  poetry  of  the  future  (as 
contrasted  with  the  unripeness  and  excess  mistaken  for  force 
and  nature  now),^^  is  not  even  without  appreciation  for  music 
of  the  right  sort ; ® but  in  general,  art  recedes  into  the  back- 
ground of  his  thought,  and  the  realities  of  the  world  are  faced 
in  their  unrelieved  somberness  and  bareness. 

We  might  expect  that  in  such  circumstances  Nietzsche  would 
become  pessimist  absolutely.  But  this  was  not  the  case.  He 
still  has  the  Dionysiac  will  to  live  against  whatever  odds 
(though  saying  little  of  Dionysus)  ; he  has  even  a certain 
pleasure  in  probing  life,  partly  to  prove  what  he  can  endure 
and  come  out  victorious  over,  and  partly  for  the  mere  sake  of 
knowing,  the  joy  of  energizing  his  intellectual  self.  In  a most 
interesting  preface  to  second  editions  of  Mixed  Opinions  and 
Sayings  and  The  Wanderer  and  his  Shadow  written  some  years 
later,  he  explains  his  peculiar  type  of  pessimism.  It  was  a 
pessimism  which  does  not  fear  the  terrible  and  problematical 
in  existence,  but  rather  seeks  it;  it  is  the  antithesis  of  the 
pessimism  of  life-weariness,  as  truly  as  of  all  romantic  illusion ; 
it  is  a brave  pessimism,  a pessimism  that  has  a good  will  to 
pessimism,®  i.e.,  as  I should  say,  it  is  practically  not  pessimism 
at  all.  We  have  seen  Nietzsche  ready  at  the  start  to  justify 
any  kind  of  a world — no  matter  how  irrational  and  unmoral — 
which  could  be  sesthetically  treated  and  turned  into  a picture; 
and  we  now  find  him  ready  to  justify  any  kind  of  a world  that 
can  be  turned  into  an  object  of  knowledge.  He  thinks  there  is 
easement  in  this  attitude  too.  We  can  transcend  whatever  is 
painful  in  experience  by  an  objective  contemplation  in  which 
pain  has  no  part  and  the  pleasure  of  knowing  alone  is  felt,  as 

See  note  b to  chap,  vi  of  this  volume. 

Werke,  XI,  81-102;  more  fully  in  the  pocket  ed.,  IV,  436-70. 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  §§  378,  407. 

Ibid.,  §§  99,  111.  He  is  severe  against  “ naturalistic  ” poetry,  saying 
that  the  poets  of  great  cities  live  too  near  “ the  sewers.” 

Preface,  § 3,  to  Mixed  Opinions  etc.  Cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 461,  on 
the  possibilities  of  a new  music,  “ unschuldige  Musik,”  i.e.,  genuinely  lyric. 

See  §§  3-7  of  the  preface  alluded  to. 


104 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


a sick  man  may  for  a moment  forget  his  sickness  in  seeking 
to  analyze  and  comprehend  it.  He  speaks  in  so  many  words 
of  psychological  observation  as  one  of  the  means  of  easing  the 
burden  of  life.^*  The  knowledge  even  of  the  most  ngly  reality 
is  beautiful.^^  He  has  an  appreciation  of  Socrates  and  his 
intellectual  joy,  such  as  he  had  not  shown  before;^®  he  under- 
stands Goethe ’s  rejoicing  in  the  world  as  a man  of  science ; ^ 
he  notes  with  satisfaction  that  thinkers  as  opposed  as  Plato  and 
Aristotle  agreed  in  finding  the  highest  happiness  for  men  and 
Gods  in  knowing,  and  even  adds,  “The  happiness  of  the  knower 
increases  the  beauty  of  the  world  and  makes  all  that  exists  sun- 
nier; knowledge  puts  its  beauty  not  only  around  things,  but 
permanently  into  things.  He  himself  lives  on  in  order 

ever  better  to  know;  his  ideal  is  a free,  fearless  hovering  over 
men,  customs,  laws,  and  traditional  valuations;  and  in  such  a 
life,  though  he  has  renounced  much,  perhaps  nearly  all,  that 
would  seem  valuable  to  other  men,  he  is  happy Knowledge 
is  the  real  end  of  existence — with  the  “great  intellect”  the  goal 
of  culture  is  reached.  Life  “an  instrument  and  means  of 
knowledge,”  life  “not  a duty  or  a fatality  or  a deception,”  but 
“an  experiment  of  one  seeking  to  know” — this  is  now  his  view 
of  it,  his  justification  of  it.®°*  He  goes  so  far  as  to  say,  “Knowl- 
edge has  become  for  us  a passion,  which  is  alarmed  at  no  sacri- 
fice and  at  bottom  fears  nothing  but  its  own  extinction.  . . . 
Granting  even  the  possibility  of  humanity’s  perishing  from  this 
passion  for  knowledge — even  this  does  not  overcome  us ! . . . 
Are  not  love  and  death  sisters?  Yes,  we  hate  barbarism — we 
should  prefer  the  destruction  of  humanity  to  the  recession  of 
knowledge!  And  finally:  if  humanity  does  not  perish  of  a 
passion,  it  will  perish  of  a weakness — which  should  we  prefer? 
This  is  the  supreme  question.  Should  we  rather  have  it  end  in 
fire  and  light,  or  in  the  sand  ? ” ^^  ^ 

Human,  etc.,  § 35.  Riehl  significantly  remarks,  “ Through  his  dis- 
appointment with  Wagner,  Nietzsche  was  driven  to  science.  He  fled  to  it 
to  escape  from  liimself  ” (op.  cit.,  p.  68). 

Baton  of  Day,  § 550. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 86. 

Werke  (pocket  ed.),  IV,  445,  §38. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 550. 

Human,  etc.,  § 34. 

” 7bfd.,  § 292;  Joyful  Science,  § 324. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 429. 


GENERAL  OUTLOOK 


105 


II 

And  yet  the  concrete  results  of  Nietzsche’s  facing  of  reality, 
with  no  aid  or  comfort  from  art  or  metaphysical  faith,  are  not 
pleasant  for  most  of  us  to  contemplate — were  not  indeed  pleasant 
at  the  start  for  him.^^  How  gladly,  he  says,  should  we  exchange 
false  ideas  about  a God  who  requires  good  of  us,  who  sees 
whatever  we  do  or  think,  who  loves  us  and  wishes  our  best  good 
in  all  adversity,  for  truths  that  were  equally  salutary,  quieting, 
and  beneficent ! But  they  are  not  to  be  had ; philosophy  at  best 
gives  us  metaphysical  plausibilities,  and  these  at  bottom  are 
just  as  untrue.  There  is  no  way  of  going  back  to  the  old  ideas 
without  soiling  the  intellectual  conscience.  It  is  a painful  sit- 
uation, but  without  pain  one  cannot  lead  and  teach  humanity, 
and  woe  to  him  who  aspires  to  do  this  and  has  not  his  conscience 
pure  ! ''  This  does  not  mean  that  Nietzsche  is  without  appre- 
ciation of  the  services  of  religion  in  the  past.  He  speaks  of 
the  deep  indebtedness  of  music  (Palestrina  and  Bach)  to  re- 
ligion, notes  the  impossibility  of  the  blossoming  of  another  art 
like  that  of  the  “Divine  Comedy,”  Raphael’s  paintings,  Michael 
Angelo’s  frescoes.  Gothic  cathedrals,  and  does  not  regret  that 
he  lingered  a while  in  the  precincts  of  metaphysics  and  meta- 
physical art,  and  comes  into  the  purely  scientific  camp  a little 
later  than  some  of  his  contemporaries.^  All  the  same,  religion 
and  artist-metaphysics  are  now  past  for  him.*  One  must  have 
loved  religion  and  art,  he  declares,  as  one  loves  mother  and 
nurse — otherwise  one  cannot  become  wise ; but  one  must  also  be 
able  to  see  beyond  them,  to  grow  away  from  them — if  one 
remains  under  their  ban,  one  does  not  understand  them.^  The 
simple  faith  that  all  goes  well  for  us  under  a loving  God,  so 
that  there  is  no  occasion  to  take  life  hard  or  complain,  is  the 
best  and  most  vital  remainder  of  the  Christian  movement,  but 
with  it  Christianity  passes  into  a gentle  moralism — really  it  is 
the  euthanasia  of  Christianity.^®  So  confident,  settled  is  his 

The  results  are  not  really  new,  but  simply  now  first  stated  in 

detail. 

Human,  etc.,  § 109. 

§§  219,  220,  234,  273. 

Ibid.,  § 292;  cf.  § 280. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 92. 


106 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


conviction  that  he  declares  that  if  a man’s  attitude  to  Chris- 
tianity is  not  critical,  we  may  as  well  turn  our  back  on  him5 
^ In  the  absence  of  theistic  or  metaphysical  faith,  the  world 
I becomes  aimless,  essentially  meaningless  to  him.  It  is  a kind  of 
I welter — history  is  so,  as  well  as  nature.^®  He  thinks  that  an 
] unprejudiced  investigator  who  searches  out  the  development  of 
the  eye,  and  observes  the  forms  it  has  in  the  lowest  creatures 
and  its  gradual  growth,  comes  to  the  conclusion  that  see- 
ing was  not  an  end  aimed  at,  but  simply  happened,  when 
chance  brought  the  requisite  apparatus  together.^®  Even  in 
man’s  inventions,  accident,  i.e.,  an  accidental  inspiration  or 
thought,  plays  a part — only  the  accident  does  not  happen  to 
most  men.^“  Reason  itself  may  have  come  by  accident  into  the 
world,  i.e.,  in  an  irrational  way.^^  For  with  chances  of  various 
kinds,  it  may  sooner  or  later  happen  that  some  throws  of  the 
dice  are  so  lucky  that  they  have  all  the  appearance  of  design ; ^ 
the  best  kind  of  results  may  thus  arise  on  occasion — happy 
hits,  we  may  say,  on  nature’s  part.^  Accordingly  Nietzsche 
speaks  of  the  chaos  (rather  than  cosmos)  of  existence.^®  He 
does  not  mean  that  things  happen  without  a cause,  but  apart 
from  any  plan  or  ordering  thought:  chance  is  the  opposite  of 
design,  out  of  which  correlation  it  means  nothing.^^  Chance 
happenings  have  causes  behind  them  like  everything  else,  and 
hence  are  necessitated  like  everything  else.^®  Law  in  nature, 
however,  he  regards  as  a questionable  conception.  If  people 
are  fond  of  it,  they  must  either  be  thinking  that  all  natural 
things  follow  their  law  in  free  obedience — in  which  case  they 
really  admire  the  morality  of  nature — or  else  the  idea  of  a 

’’  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 182. 

Human,  etc.,  § 238. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 122. 

Ihid.,  § 363. 

“ Ibid.,  § 123. 

“ Ibid.,  § 130. 

Joyful  Science,  §§  109,  277. 

■“  He  goes  so  far  as  to  argue  on  this  basis  that  in  nature  at  large 
there  is,  strictly  speaking,  no  chance : “ If  you  know  that  there  are  no 
aims,  you  know  also  that  there  is  no  chance : for  only  in  connection  with 
a world  of  aims  has  the  word  ‘chance’  a meaning”  (Joyful  Science, 
§109). 

Once,  it  must  be  admitted,  Nietzsche  contrasts  chance  with  neces- 
sity (Ecce  Homo,  II,  §8),  relapsing,  we  must  suppose,  for  the  moment 
into  popular  modes  of  expression. 


GENERAL  OUTLOOK 


107 


Creative  Mechanician  delights  them.  The  conception  is  really 
an  attempt  to  humanize  necessity — a last  refuge  of  mythological 
fancy 

In  this  moving  chaos  man  arises,  with  no  end  of  causes 
behind  him — but  not  from  any  superior  design.*^  He  arises, 
and  he  passes  away — he  is  as  perishable  as  any  other  creature. 
Some  fancy  that  man  is  possessed  of  a soul  in  the  sense  of 
something  separable  from  his  bodily  organization  and  capable 
of  surviving  it;  Nietzsche  does  not  think  so.’'  “In  former 
times  the  effort  was  to  win  a sense  of  the  glory  of  man,  by 
pointing  to  his  divine  origin:  it  is  a forbidden  way  now,  for  at 
the  door  to  it  stands,  along  with  other  terrible  creatures,  the 
ape,  who  shows  his  teeth  understandingly,  as  if  to  say:  no 
further  in  this  direction!  So  now  we  look  in  the  opposite 
direction:  the  way  whither  humanity  goes  shall  serve  to  show 
its  glory  and  likeness  to  God.  Alas,  with  this  also  nothing  is 
proven!  At  the  end  of  this  way  stands  the  funeral-urn  of  the 
last  man  and  grave-digger  (with  the  inscription  ‘nihil  humani 
a me  alienum  puto’).  However  high  humanity  may  have 
developed  itself — and  perhaps  it  will  be  lower  at  the  end  than 
at  the  beginning — there  is  no  transition  for  it  into  a higher 
order,  any  more  than  there  is  an  ascent  to  god-likeness  and 
eternity  for  the  ant  and  the  earwig  at  the  close  of  their  ‘earthly 
course.’  Becoming  draws  having  been  in  tow  after  it:  why 
should  there  be  an  exception  from  this  eternal  play  for  some 
little  planet,  or  again  for  a little  species  upon  it!  Away  with 
such  sentimentalities ! ” Another  passage  is  to  similar  effect. 
“In  the  midst  of  the  ocean  of  becoming,  we  awake  on  an  island 
which  is  not  bigger  than  a boat,  we  adventuring  and  wandering 
birds,  and  look  around  us  for  a little  while : we  do  so  as  quickly 
and  as  curiously  as  possible,  for  how  quickly  may  a wind  blow 
us  away  or  a wave  sweep  over  the  island,  so  that  nothing  is  left 
of  us!  But  here,  in  this  little  space,  we  find  other  wandering 
birds  and  hear  of  earlier  ones — and  so  we  live  a precious  moment 
of  knowing  and  of  guessing,  with  happy  flapping  of  wings  and 
twittering  with  one  another,  and  in  spirit  venture  out  on  the 
ocean,  no  less  proud  than  it.”^®  One  might  turn  these  pictures 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 49. 
*^IUd.,  §314. 


*°  Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  §9. 

Cf.  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 14. 


108 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


into  abstract  philosophemes,  but  it  is  unnecessary;  nor  need 
one  comment  on  their  mournful  undertone.  Sometimes,  indeed, 
our  mortality  is  spoken  of  in  a different  tone.  Nietzsche  was 
a man  to  accept  things  as  they  are  and  make  the  best  of  them — 
and  once,  after  saying  that  “we  have  lost  one  interest,  the 
‘after  death’  question  no  longer  concerns  us,”  he  speaks  of 
this  as  “an  unspeakable  benefit,  too  recent  to  be  fully  appreci- 
ated.”™ He  even  asks  if  it  is  not  shameless  to  wish  an  eternal 
continuance  of  ourselves.  “Have  you  then  no  thought  of  all 
the  rest  of  things  that  would  have  to  endure  you  for  all  eternity, 
as  they  have  endured  you  hitherto  with  a more  than  Christian 
patience  ? ” But  I suspect  that  he  makes  a virtue  of  necessity 
in  speaking  in  this  way;  his  deeper  feeling  did  not  really 
change,  and  we  shall  come  on  traces  of  it  in  his  last  period.™ 
Nietzsche  views  man  largely  in  what  I may  call  a physio- 
logical light.  Our  consciousness  is  not  the  core  of  our  being — 
it  is  intermittent,  waxes  and  wanes;  as  a late  development  of 
the  organic,  it  is  something  imperfect  and  weak — it  may  lead 
astray  as  well  as  give  help.™^  Among  the  signs  of  progress  in 
the  nineteenth  century  is  to  be  reckoned  the  placing  of  the 
health  of  the  body  before  that  of  the  soul,  and  conceiving  the 
latter  as  resulting  from,  or  at  least  conditioned  by,  the  former.™ 
A drop  of  blood  too  much  or  too  little  in  the  brain  may  make 
one’s  life  unspeakably  miserable  and  hard,  so  that  we  suffer 
more  from  this  drop  than  Prometheus  did  from  his  vulture.™ 
Varying  foods  may  have  varying  spiritual  effects.  It  is  a 
question  whether  pessimism  (of  the  ordinary  type)  may  not  be 
the  after-effect  of  a wrong  diet,  the  spread  of  Buddhism  being 
an  instance : ™ Nietzsche  discourses  especially  on  the  danger  of 
vegetarianism.™  Possibly  the  European  unrest  of  recent  times 

">  Hid.,  § 72. 

" Ihid.,  § 211. 

'“Pp.  173-4. 

Joyful  Science,  § 11. 

Will  to  Power,  §§  117,  126.  I quote  occasionally  from  later  works, 
when  Nietzsche’s  present  views  simply  find  further  statement  in  them. 

“ Dawn  of  Day,  § 83. 

'‘o  Joyful  Science,  § 134 — he  takes  pains  to  say  “the  spread  of  Bud- 
dhism {not  its  origin).”  Pessimism  is  regarded  as  a symptom  rather  than 
a problem  in  Will  to  Power,  § 38. 

" Joyful  Science,  § 145.  Cf.,  on  the  effect  of  poor  nourishment  in 
general.  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 184. 


GENERAL  OUTLOOK 


109 


may  have  to  do  with  the  fact  that  “our  forefathers,  the  whole 
Middle  Ages,  thanks  to  the  effect  of  German  propensities  on 
Europe,  were  given  to  drink;  Middle  Ages — that  phrase  sig- 
nifies the  alcoholic  poisoning  of  Europe.  ” So  fearfulness, 
from  which  so  much  evil  comes  in  the  world,  is  before  all  a 
physiological  state.®  Even  the  mental  and  moral  disposition  of 
those  to  whom  the  ascetic  priest  ministers  may  be  explained 
physiologically;  their  “sinfulness”  may  be  not  so  much  fact, 
as  an  interpretation  of  fact,  namely  physiological  depression.® 
For  a similar  reason  the  views  of  old  age  should  not  be  treated 
too  reverentially,  even  when  they  are  those  of  a philosopher,  nor 
are  we  to  give  too  much  weight  to  the  judgments  we  form  at 
the  end  of  the  day:  fatigue  and  weariness  may  be  uncon- 
sciously reflected  in  them.®^  Morality  itself  may  have  a varying 
tinge  according  to  physiological  conditions:  the  morality  of 
increasing  nerve-force' is  joyous  and  restless;  that  of  diminishing 
nerve-force— in  the  evening  or  in  the  case  of  the  sick  or  the 
aged — is  of  a passive,  expectant,  sad,  or  even  gloomy  char- 
acter.®^ Philosophy  may  also  vary,  according  as  it  springs  from 
a deficiency  or  from  a superabundance  of  life-energy.  Every 
philosophy  which  ranks  peace  higher  than  war,  every  ethics 
which  has  a negative  conception  of  happiness,  every  metaphysics 
and  physics  which  recognizes  a finale,  some  kind  of  an  ultimate 
state,  every  predominant  aesthetic  or  religious  longing  for  an 
apart,  beyond,  without,  above,  allows  us  to  raise  the  question 
whether  it  was  not  siekness  that  inspired  the  philosopher.  In- 
deed the  unconscious  disguising  of  physiological  needs  under 
the  mantle  of  the  objective,  the  ideal,  and  the  purely  spiritual 
goes  shoekingly  far,  and  Nietzsche  says  that  he  has  often  asked 
himself  whether,  broadly  speaking,  philosophy  has  not  been 
principally  hitherto  an  interpretation  of  the  body — and  a mis- 
understanding of  the  bodyP 

Joyful  Science,  § 134. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 538. 

Genealogy  of  Morals,  III,  §§  16,  17. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 542. 

’'-Ibid.,  § 368. 

Preface,  §2,  to  Joyful  Science. 


110 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


HI 

Undoubtedly  all  this  has  a materialistic  sound,  and  yet 
when  we  notice  Nietzsche’s  ultimate  philosophical  views,  we 
find  that  he  is  as  far  from  materialism  as  ever.®*  This  material 
organization  on  which  our  higher  life  is  dependent  is  itself  only 
statable  in  mental  terms.  Matter — the  popular  (and  perhaps 
I might  add,  the  popular  scientific)  notion  of  some  kind  of 
permanent  self-existing  substance — is  illusory ; it  is  as  much  an 
error  as  the  God  (being)  of  the  Eleatics.®®  We  deal  with  phe- 
nomena (mental  images)  in  the  whole  range  of  our  knowledge. 
One  set  of  them  is  connected  with  another  set — that  is  all  we 
can  say.  We  speak  of  cause  and  effect,  but  we  simply  describe 
in  this  way — we  explain  nothing.™  The  quality  resulting  from 
every  chemical  process  is  as  much  a wonder  after  as  before ; so 
is  a continuation  of  motion;  nobody  has  “explained”  push. 
And  how  could  we  explain  ? We  deal  only  with  things  that  do 
not  exist,  i.e.,  lines,  surfaces,  bodies,  atoms,  divisible  times, 
divisible  spaces,  all  our  own  pictures  and  creations.  Science  is 
a humanizing  of  things — it  is  ourselves  we  learn  to  describe 
more  accurately,  as  we  describe  things  and  their  succession. 
Possibly,  yes  probably,  there  never  is  such  a doubleness  as  we 
imply  in  speaking  of  cause  and  effect — there  being  before  us 
in  reality  a continuum,  from  which  we  isolate  now  this  piece 
and  now  that — just  as,  on  the  other  hand,  we  think  that  we 
perceive  motion,  when  we  only  conclude  it,  what  we  perceive 
being  only  isolated  points.  Our  very  imagery  of  cause  and 
effect  may  thus  prevent  insight  into  the  real  connection.®®  All 
this  is  said  by  Nietzsche  in  general,  but  it  applies  to  the  point 
now  in  hand  and  shows  that  the  assertions  of  the  dependence 
of  the  mind  upon  the  body  must  not  be  taken  too  literally." 

The  fact  is,  so  far  as  Nietzsche  can  see  at  present,  we  cannot 
get  out  of  our  mental  being  to  explain  it.  Having  concluded, 
after  his  analysis  of  Schopenhauer’s  metaphysical  pretensions, 
that  we  do  not  know  reality,  but  only  our  sensations  or  pictures 

®*  Later  (Genealogy  of  Morals,  III,  16)  he  distinctly  says  that  with 
a physiological  view  like  that  above  described,  one  may  still  be  the 
strictest  opponent  of  all  materialism. 

““  Joyful  Science,  § 109. 

"‘Ibid.,  § 112;  Dawn  of  Day,  § 121. 


ULTIMATE  VIEW 


111 


of  reality,  he  is  as  hopelessly  shut  in  to  subjectivism  as  Kant 
was.  Our  own  actions  are  essentially  unknown,  as  truly  as 
outer  objects  are.®^  In  an  aphorism  entitled  “In  Prison,”  he 
says,  “There  is  absolutely  no  escaping,  no  way  of  slipping  or 
stealing  into  the  actual  world.  We  are  in  our  web,  we  spiders, 
and  whatever  we  catch  in  it,  we  can  catch  nothing  but  what 
allows  itself  to  be  caught  in  our  kind  of  web.”®®  In  another 
place  he  speaks  of  the  mind  as  a mirror:  “if  we  attempt  to 
consider  the  mirror  in  itself,  we  discover  nothing  but  the  things 
in  it;  if  we  try  to  lay  hold  of  the  things,  we  come  finally  to 
nothing  beyond  the  mirror.”®®  “Why  does  not  man  see  things 
as  they  are?  He  stands  in  the  way  of  them;  he  covers  the 
things.”^®  Once  he  even  raises  the  question  whether  there  are 
any  things  independent  of  us,^^ — he  only  raises  it,  however,  for 
his  practically  constant  underlying  belief  is  that  independent 
realities  exist,  however  unknown.  His  attitude  is  strikingly  (I 
might  say,  unconsciously)  exhibited  in  a comparison  of  the 
world  of  our  experience  to  a dream,  in  the  midst  of  which  the 
dreamer  becomes  sufficiently  awake  to  know  that  it  is  a dream, 
and  yet  feels  that  he  must  go  on  dreaming,  as  otherwise,  like 
a sleep-walker  who  must  dream  on  if  he  is  not  precipitously  to 
fall,  he  might  perish.'^®  The  dream  (appearance,  Schein)  is 
spoken  of  indeed  as  the  active,  living  thing — a world  of  inde- 
pendent reality  is  practically  ignored.  And  yet  the  very  fact 
that  he  speaks  of  a dream,  and  of  becoming  half-awake  in  it, 
shows  that  the  idea  of  independent  reality  shimmers  in  the  back- 
ground of  his  mind,  since  a dream  that  is  not  contrasted  with 
a waking  state  is  not  a dream  at  all. 

Practically  then  in  this  second  period  Nietzsche  is  shut  up 
in  the  phenomenalist  position,  but  with  reservations  or  implica- 
tions which  keep  us  from  calling  him  a phenomenalist.  He 
says  on  the  one  hand : we  have  no  knowledge  of  reality — every 
metaphysical  thought  is  far  from  the  truth ; even  in  religion, 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 116;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 477. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 117 ; cf.  Joyful  Science,  § 57,  where  he  makes  light 
of  the  realists  and  their  claim  to  see  things  as  they  are. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 243. 

Ihid.,  § 348. 

Ibid.,  § 119. 

'‘^Joyful  Science,  § 54. 

Human,  etc.,  § 15. 


112 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


art,  morality  we  do  not  touch  the  nature  of  the  world  in  itself — 
no  surmise  {Ahnung)  we  can  make  takes  us  beyond  the  realm 
of  ideas  {Vorstellung)  while  many  have  died  for  their  con- 
victions, it  is  probable  that  no  one  has  ever  sacrificed  himself 
for  the  truth “philosophical  systems”  are  shining  mirages;^® 
“metaphysics  might  be  described  as  the  science  which  treats  of 
the  fundamental  errors  of  man,  as  if  they  were  fundamental 
truths.”^  But,  on  the  other  hand,  he  always  implies  that 
things  have  another  manner  of  existence  than  that  which  they 
have  in  us.  Even  when  he  asserts  that  this  other  manner  of  exist- 
ence does  not  practically  concern  us  and  is  as  much  a matter  of 
indifference  as  a chemical  analysis  of  the  water  would  be  to  a 
sailor  in  a storm,  he  presupposes  the  other  manner  of  existence ; 
even  when  he  asserts  that  the  questions  of  idealism  and  realism 
relate  to  a region  where  neither  belief  nor  knowledge  is  necessary, 
a sort  of  nebulous  swamp-land  beyond  the  reach  of  investigation 
and  reason,  and  pleads  for  our  becoming  good  neighbors  to 
the  things  that  lie  near,™  he  implies  that  the  outlying  region 
and  swamp-land  exist.  Realistic  implications  are  also  evident 
in  the  strange  suggestion  that  things  as  they  exist  in  themselves 
may  be  far  less  significant  than  things  as  they  appear,  that  the 
independent  realities,  which  we  covet  so  much  to  know,  might, 
if  we  came  on  them,  turn  out  so  poor  and  empty  that  they  would 
excite  an  Homeric  laughter.®® 

Indeed,  he  thinks  that  men  have  not  ordinarily  sought  truth 
in  the  past,  but  simply  ideas  that  would  be  serviceable  to  them — 
continuing  a line  of  thought  on  which  we  have  seen  him 
starting  in  the  earlier  period.  The  antithesis  is  implied  in  a 
general  remark  like  the  following;  “As  soon  as  you  wish  to  act, 
you  must  close  the  door  to  doubt — says  the  practical  man.  And 

” Ihid.,  § 10. 

” Ibid.,  § 630. 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 31. 

” This  quotation  I borrow  from  Eiehl,  op.  cit.,  p.  61,  being  unable  to 
locate  it. 

Cf.  Human,  etc.,  § 9. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 16;  cf.  Human,  etc.,  § 532.  He  tries  to  preach 
a gospel  of  contented  ignorance  of  first  and  last  things  in  this  period, 
and  exalts  Epicurus  more  or  less  as  a model  (cf.  The  Wanderer  etc., 
§§7,  16). 

Human,  etc.,  §§  16,  29.  Cf.  also  later  utterances.  Beyond  Good  and 
Evil,  §34;  Genealogy  of  Morals,  III,  §7;  Will  to  Power,  § 586B. 


ULTIMATE  VIEW 


113 


do  you  not  fear  to  be  deceived  in  this  way? — answers  the 
theoretic  man.”®^  For  all  such  warnings,  however,  the  prac- 
tical man  goes  on  his  way,  and  Nietzsche  does  not  upbraid  him. 
Truth  may,  of  course,  be  useful,®^  but  error  may  be  useful  too  ®® — 
we  have  no  guarantee  that  it  is  always  the  true  that  is  helpful 
to  life ; there  is  no  pre-established  harmony  between  the  two.®^ 
The  illogical  man  has  often  been  useful  or  even  necessary — 
and  so  with  the  departure  from  perfect  justice  in  judgments, 
so  with  error  about  the  worth  of  life.®®  Illusions  may  be  a 
source  of  force,  and  it  might  be  well  if  there  were  two  com- 
partments in  man’s  brain,  one  for  illusions,  the  other  for  science 
to  regulate  them  and  keep  them  from  doing  harm.®®  Without 
two  capital  errors,  belief  in  identity  and  belief  in  free-will, 
mankind,  in  any  distinctive  sense,  would  never  have  arisen — 
for,  to  mention  only  the  second,  its  ground  feeling  is  that  man 
is  free  in  a world  of  unfreedom,  a marvelous  exception,  a super- 
animal, half  a God.®^  Doubt,  intellectual  scrupulousness,  only 
arise  late,  are  always  relatively  weak  factors  in  human  life, 
and  really  can  only  be  allowed  a limited  role  there.®®  Philosophy 
itself — what  has  gone  by  that  name — has  ordinarily  been  ani- 
mated by  concern  not  so  much  for  “truth,”  as  for  health, 
growth,  power,  life,  and  the  future — Nietzsche  knows  that  it 
is  a daring  proposition  to  throw  out,  but  he  ventures  it.®®  Errors 
may  even  have  a part  in  making  reality — in  making  character, 
for  instance,  and  in  making  history.®®  Pretend  to  a virtue 
(kindness,  honor),  and  the  result  may  be  in  time  that  you 
have  it ; ®^  act  on  a belief,  and  you  may  win  it — as  Bohler  said  to 
Wesley,  “Preach  the  faith  till  you  have  it,  and  then  you  will 

Daivn  of  Day,  § 519. 

He  even  asks  why,  if  science  were  not  linked  with  the  usefulness 
of  what  is  known,  we  should  concern  ourselves  about  science  (Mixed 
Opinions  etc.,  § 98 ) . 

Ihid.,  §§  13,  26. 

Human,  etc.,  §517;  cf.  §§  30,  36,  38,  227.  He  even  says,  “Error 
has  made  men  out  of  animals  [the  reference  is  to  the  ideas  of  responsibility 
and  free-will,  see  ante,  p.  55] ; is  it  possible  that  truth  may  turn  man 
again  into  an  animal?”  (Human,  etc.,  §519). 

Ihid.,  §§  31-3. 

Ihid.,  § 251. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 12. 

'‘^Joyful  Science,  §§  110,  121. 

Preface,  § 2,  to  Joyful  Science. 

Dawn  of  Day,  §§  115,  307. 

Ihid.,  § 248;  cf.  Joyful  Science,  § 356. 


114< 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


preach  because  you  have  Errors,  when  useful  to  life, 

may  in  time  become  incorporated  in  the  living  organism  and 
act  as  impulses  there.®^  Yet  errors  are  errors,  whatever  their 
effect,  whatever  their  beneficence.  The  question  of  the  useful- 
ness of  an  idea  is  separate  from  that  of  its  truth,®^  Not  only 
does  the  agreeableness  or  comfort  of  an  opinion  prove  nothing, 
its  necessity  to  life  proves  nothing — among  the  conditions  of 
life,  error  may  be  one.®® 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 325. 

'•  Werke,  XI,  425-6. 

**  Human,  etc.,  §§  30,  36. 

Ibid.,  §§  120,  131,  161,  36,  635  (the  inspiring  and  invigorating  not 
thereby  true),  Daion  of  Day,  §§  90,  424,  73,  Joyful  Science,  § 121. 


CHAPTER  XI 


ATTITUDE  TO  MORALS 

In  turning  to  Nietzsche’s  attitude  to  morals  in  this  period,  I 
find  it  convenient  to  distinguish  between  his  views  about  moral- 
ity and  his  own  moral  views.  For  morality  may  be  taken  as 
an  historical  phenomenon  like  any  other,  and  studied  and 
analyzed ; and  it  is  in  fact  the  critical  analysis  of  morality  as 
an  objective  fact  in  history  which  now  chiefly  engages  him.  At 
the  same  time  he  puts  forth  ethical  views  of  his  own  to  a limited 
extent. 

I 

First,  then,  as  to  historical  morality.  Here  too  as  in  the 
theoretic  realm  he  comes  on  elements  of  illusion.  Man  thinks 
he  is  free,  and  thereby  distinguished  from  the  animal  world; 
notions  of  responsibility,  of  desert,  of  guilt,  habits  of  praising 
and  blaming,  of  rewarding  and  punishing,  arise.  But  Nietzsche 
sees  no  way  out  of  determinism.  Causes  lie  behind  human 
actions  as  behind  all  other  events  in  nature.  That  in  given  cir- 
cumstances a given  individual  might  have  acted  otherwise  than 
as  he  did  is  something  he  cannot  admit ; and  it  is  only  turning 
this  around  to  say  that  the  consciousness  of  freedom  is  illusory. 
Kant  and  Schopenhauer  had  saved  themselves  from  this  con- 
sequence by  postulating  a metaphysical  being  for  man — saying 
that  while  as  a phenomenon  in  time  his  actions  are  determined, 
his  real  being  is  timeless  and  not  subject  to  the  laws  of  phe- 
nomenal succession.  But  Nietzsche  has  now  left  metaphysical 
views  behind  (at  least,  they  no  longer  count  for  him) — and  this 
way  of  escape  is  not  open.® 

Seeing  illusion  in  free-will  is  nothing  novel,'’  and  if  there 
is  any  novelty  in  Nietzsche’s  procedure  at  this  point,  it  is  in  the 
thoroughgoing  way  in  which  he  follows  up  the  consequences  of 
the  admission.  I mention  them  simply  as  he  states  them — and 
he  hardly  more  than  states  them,  deeming  extended  argumenta- 

115 


116 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


tion  superfluous.  The  consequences  are  far  from  agreeable  in 
some  cases.  For  example,  responsibility  goes,  and  he  calls  it 
a bitter  drop — “the  bitterest  which  one  bent  on  knowing  must 
swallow.  ’ ’ ^ Through  feelings  of  responsibility  man  has  lifted 
himself  out  of  his  animality:  it  was  a necessary  illusion 
{“Moral  ist  Nothluge”)?  Yet  the  conclusion  is  inevitable: 
without  freedom,  no  responsibility.  We  are  as  responsible  for 
our  dreams  as  for  our  waking  conduct — that  is,  we  are  responsi- 
ble for  neither.  Cruel  men  are  no  more  responsible  for  what 
they  do,  than  granite  is  for  being  granite.^  Guilt  also  goes. 
Although  judges  of  witches  and  witches  themselves  have  been 
convinced  of  their  guilt,  there  was  no  guilt,  and  it  is  so  with 
guilt  of  every  kind.^  Desert  of  praise  or  blame  goes  (which  is 
not  saying  that  either  may  not  be  dealt  out  for  effect)  ; ® and 
so  with  praising  and  blaming  ourselves.  Bad  conscience  is  like 
a dog  biting  against  a stone — a stupidity.®  Giving  way  to 
remorse  is  to  add  to  our  first  folly  a second;  if  we  have  done 
harm,  let  us  do  good — this  is  the  better  way.^*^  Indeed,  things 
being  necessarily  what  they  are,  “wrong”  in  any  absolute  sense 
disappears  from  the  universe,  and  “ought,”  as  contradictory 
to  what  is,  becomes  meaningless.®  All  actions  are  innocent; 
even  the  emancipated  individual  who  becomes  “pious”  again 
(a  type  Nietzsche  particularly  dislikes)  only  does  what  he  has 
to  do — though  it  may  be  a sign  of  degeneration  going  on  within 
him.®  Revolutionary  and  more  or  less  unwelcome  as  all  this  is, 
Nietzsche  sees  compensations,  and  in  some  ways  has  a sense  of 
relief — for  the  dark  shadow  of  sin  vanishes  and  the  world  is 
clothed  in  innocence  again.^®  Later  on  he  says  along  this  same 
general  line,  though  with  a special  shade  of  meaning  [he  has 
been  speaking  of  the  liberating  effect  of  comparative  studies], 
“We  understand  all,  we  experience  all,  we  have  no  longer 

' Human,  etc.,  § 107. 

' Ibid.,  § 40. 

° Dawn  of  Day,  § 128;  Human,  etc.,  § 43;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 288. 

* Joyful  Science,  § 250;  cf.  Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 386. 

' Human,  etc.,  § 105;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 318. 

"The  Wanderer  etc.,  §38;  cf.  Human,  etc.,  §133. 

’ The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 323. 

* Human,  etc.,  § 34. 

® Dawn  of  Day,  §§  148,  56.  As  to  the  innocence  of  becoming  in  general, 
see  later  utterances,  Werke,  XIII,  127,  § 289;  XIV,  308,  § 141. 

Human,  etc.,  §124. 


ATTITUDE  TO  MORALS 


117 


hostile  feeling  in  us.  . . . ‘All  is  good’ — it  costs  us  effort  to 
deny.  We  suffer,  if  we  are  ever  so  unintelligent  as  to  become 
party  against  a thing”;  he  even  suggests  that  in  this  way 
scholars  best  fulfil  today  the  teaching  of  Christ.^’-  If  we  bid 
farewell  to  a passion,  he  would  have  us  do  it  without  hate — 
otherwise  we  learn  a second  passion ; he  thinks  that  the  souls  of 
Christians,  which  have  freed  themselves  from  sin,  are  usually 
ruined  by  the  hatred  of  sin — “Look  at  the  faces  of  great  Chris- 
tians! They  are  the  faces  of  great  haters.” 

Nietzsche  becomes  very  warm  against  punishment — he  would 
banish  it  out  of  the  world.^^  It  is  really  anger  and  revenge, 
to  which  we  give  a good  name  so  as  to  have  good  conscience  in 
inflicting  it.®  The  truth  is  that  the  evil-doer  is  not  even  the 
same  person  that  he  was  when  he  committed  the  evil  deed;  we 
punish  a scapegoat.  In  any  case,  the  punishment  does  not 
purify  him,  is  no  expiation ; on  the  contrary,  it  soils  more  than 
the  transgression  itself.'^  The  punishment  here  in  mind  is  that 
which  masks  as  justice  (the  wrong-doer  receiving  his  deserts)  ; 
viewed  as  a deterrent,  however  (whether  for  others  or  for  the 
wrong-doer  himself  in  the  future),  and  wrought  in  that  spirit, 
Nietzsche  does  not  question  but  rather  asserts  its  utility.  The 
wrong-doer  by  suffering  it  benefits  society,  and  a sense  of  this 
should  determine  his  mood,  which  should  not  be  remorse,  but 
the  feeling  that  having  done  evil,  he  is  now  doing  good — he 
should  be  free  to  consider  himself  a benefactor  of  humanity.^® 
Nietzsche  is  also  troubled  about  the  way  society  has  to  proceed 
to  protect  itself  against  crime — about  the  tools  it  has  to  create 
and  make  use  of,  the  policemen,  jailors,  executioners,  not  for- 
getting the  public  prosecutors  and  the  lawyers;  indeed,  “let 
one  ask  whether  the  judge  himself  and  the  punishment  and 
the  whole  course  of  judicial  procedure  are  not  in  their  effect 
on  non-criminals  depressing  rather  than  elevating  phenomena.” 
As  often,  he  says,  as  we  turn  men  into  means  to  the  ends  of 
society  and  sacrifice  them,  all  our  higher  humanity  grieves.^® 

“ Will  to  Power,  § 218. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 411. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 183;  Dawn  of  Day,  §§  13,  202. 

Dawn  of  Day,  §§  252,  236. 

Human,  etc.,  §105;  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 323. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 186. 


118 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


He  is  aware  that  there  is  some  danger  to  society  in  the  doctrines 
of  general  human  innocence  and  unresponsibility — they  might 
throw  courts  and  the  course  of  civil  justice  out  of  gear;  there 
was  similar  danger,  he  observes,  in  the  teaching  of  Jesus  to  just 
the  opposite  effect,  namely  that  since  all  are  sinful,  they  should 
not  judge  one  another.^^  But  Nietzsche  is  no  revolutionary,  and 
while  he  wished  to  see  civil  institutions  purged  of  the  spirit  of 
revenge,  he  had  no  desire  to  abolish  them.  He  did  not  even 
oppose  capital  punishment,  and  wished  to  allow  an  incurable 
criminal,  who  became  a horror  to  himself,  to  end  his  own  days. 
His  concern  was  chiefly  for  a point  of  view,  namely,  that  the 
criminal  is  one  deranged  or  sick,  and  should  be  treated  as  such 
— not  then  with  patronizing  compassion,  but  with  a physician’s 
penetration,  a physician’s  good  will:  he  has  subtle  reflections 
to  offer  in  this  connection  on  the  psychology  of  crime.'®  One  of 
his  hopeful  thoughts  for  the  future  is  that  there  will  be  institu- 
tions where  men  can  betake  themselves  for  spiritual  cures, 
according  to  their  varying  needs — in  one  place,  anger  would  be 
fought,  in  another  lust,  and  so  on.'®  ^ He  can  also  imagine  indi- 
viduals and  whole  groups  abstaining  from  recourse  to  the  courts 
on  their  own  account,  after  the  primitive  Christian  fashion.®® 
As  for  himself  he  says,  “Better  allow  yourself  to  be  robbed 
than  have  scarecrows  about  you  to  prevent  it — such  is  my 
taste.  ” ®'  ® 

II 

Nietzsche  also  criticises  certain  ideas  which  come  nearer  the 
content  of  morality.  He  finds  an  element  of  illusion  in  the  view 
that  good  impulses  and  evil  impulses  differ  in  kind.  He  thinks 
that  in  all  man  does,  he  acts  for  his  preservation,  his  pleasure, 
his  advantage.'^  Some  actions  are,  however,  more  intelligent  than 
others,  and  this  fact  gives  rise  to  diverse  judgments.  It  is  a view 
not  unlike  that  of  Socrates  and  Plato,  who  held  that  man  always 
does  the  good,  i.e.,  what  seems  so  to  him,  according  to  the  grade 
of  his  intellect,  the  measure  of  his  rationality.  Acts  called  evil 
are  really  stupid.  Good  acts  are  sublimated  evil  ones ; evil  acta 

” Ibid.,  § 81.  Ibid.,  XI,  377,  § 573. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 202.  ^'Joyful  Science,  § 184. 

“ Werke,  XI,  377,  § 573. 


ATTITUDE  TO  MORALS 


119 


clumsy,  unintelligent  good  ones.  In  accordance  with  such  an 
understanding  of  things,  Nietzsche  raises  the  question  whether 
humanity  might  not  transform  itself  from  a moral  into  a wise 
humanity.^  ‘ 

Especially  is  there  illusion  in  the  idea  of  unegoistic  actions, 
by  which  Schopenhauer,  and  he  himself  at  the  outset,  had  set 
such  store.  He  by  no  means  denies  the  genuineness  of  the 
actions  which  go  by  that  name ; he  throws  no  suspicion  on  the 
reality  of  benevolence,  self-sacrifice,  heroism — his  reasoning  is 
different  from  that  of  La  Rochefoucauld;  hut  he  thinks  that 
when  we  look  for  the  ultimate  source  of  such  actions,  we 
find  the  same  desire  for  personal  gratification  leading  to  them 
which  leads  to  all  other  actions.^  A mother,  for  instance,  gives 
her  child  what  she  denies  herself — sleep,  the  best  food,  on 
occasion  sacrificing  her  health  and  her  means.  Is  this  to  be 
treated  as  an  exception  to  the  rule  of  human  conduct — a wonder 
in  the  world,  something,  as  Schopenhauer  said,  “impossible 
and  yet  actual”?  Or  is  the  fact  simply  that  the  mother  sacri- 
fices certain  impulses  to  other  impulses,  yielding  to  the  strongest 
— that  she  nowise  differs,  so  far  as  the  psychology  of  the  matter 
goes,  from  a stubborn  person  who  would  rather  be  shot  than 
go  a step  out  of  his  way  to  accommodate  some  one  else?  We 
do  not  and  cannot  cease  to  be  egos  seeking  for  personal  gratifica- 
tion, no  matter  what  we  do.  And  yet  Schopenhauer  thought 
unegoistic  motives  the  essential  mark  of  a moral  action — and 
the  idea  is  not  uncommon  today ^ 

Again,  morality  tends  to  draw  the  line  so  sharply  between 
good  and  evil  that  one  cannot  be  supposed  to  come  out  of  the 
other.  Nietzsche,  however,  finds  evil  sometimes  passing  into 
good.  The  passions  excited  in  war,  the  impersonal  hate,  the 
cold-blooded  killing  with  good  conscience,  the  proud  indifference 
to  great  losses,  may  in  time  be  translated  into  spiritual  equiva- 
lents, and  add  to  the  sum  of  available  energy  in  the  workshops 
of  the  mind.^®  Destruction  and  the  destructive  spirit  may  pre- 
pare the  way  for  new  things  under  the  sun,  new  forms  of  life. 

Human,  etc.,  §§  102,  107. 

Cf.  The  Wanderer  etc.,  §20;  Daicn  of  Day,  §103. 

Human,  etc.,  § 57 ; cf.  Werke,  XI,  327,  § 439. 

Human,  etc.,  § 133. 

= § 277. 


120 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


As  mighty  glaciers  hollow  out  valleys  and  in  time  leave  meadows 
and  woods  and  brooks  in  their  track,  so  frightful  human  ener- 
gies— what  we  commonly  sum  up  as  evil  {das  Bose) — may  be 
Cyclopean  architects  and  road-builders  of  humanity.^  Even 
deception,  violence,  ruthless  self-interest  may  play  a part — 
and  a genius  of  culture  might  employ  them  with  so  sure  a hand 
that  he  would  seem  like  an  evil  demon,  and  yet  his  aims,  now 
and  then  shining  through,  be  great  and  good,  and  he  himself 
have  angel  wings.®  We  cannot  build  good  “on  good  alone,” 
as  Wordsworth’s  “Happy  Warrior”  does — at  least  on  what  is 
commonly  called  good.  A spirit  of  contradiction  may  lie  at 
the  basis  of  one  man’s  virtue;  a readiness  to  agree  at  the  basis 
of  another’s;  a third  may  draw  all  his  morality  out  of  his 
lonely  pride,  and  a fourth  out  of  a social  impulse.  That  is,  what 
is  called  evil,  as  well  as  what  is  called  good,  may  be  the  basis 
of  good,  and  the  most  inept  teacher  of  the  four  types  of  indi- 
viduals mentioned  would  be  the  moral  fanatic  who  failed  to 
bear  this  in  mind.® 

The  very  ideas  of  what  is  good  or  evil  may  vary.  A lonely 
man  may  console  himself  by  thinking  that  he  is  ahead  of  his 
time;  but  the  world  may  not  go  his  way.®  Even  a good  con- 
science does  not  necessarily  attend  a good  man.  Science  is 
something  good,  and  yet  it  has  often  come  into  the  world 
stealthily,  in  roundabout  ways,  feeling  like  a criminal,  or  at 
least  like  a smuggler.  Good  conscience  has  as  its  first  stage  bad 
conscience — for  everything  good  is  sometime  new,  i.e.,  unusual, 
against  use  and  custom,  unmoral  [in  the  primitive  sense  of 
that  term — the  German  here  is  wider  die  Sitte,  wisittlicJi], 
and  gnaws  at  the  heart  of  its  discoverer.^^  In  other  words, 
good  conscience  is  a late  fruit  of  bad  conscience. 

Ill 

All  this,  however,  does  not  mean  that  there  is  nothing 
constant  in  morality — that  in  a broad  way  it  is  not  a tolerably 
distinct  and  recognizable  phenomenon  in  history.  What  is 

Ibid.,  § 246. 

“ Ibid.,  § 241. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  §70;  cf.  Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  §91. 

Human,  etc.,  § 375. 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 90. 


ATTITUDE  TO  MORALS 


121 


most  constant  about  it  is  its  form ; but  within  limits  the  content 
of  it  tends  to  be  constant,  too. 

Historically  speaking,  that  conduct  is  always  moral,  ethical 
(moralisch,  sittlich,  ethisch)  which  conforms  to  a long-estab- 
lished law  or  tradition.  The  fundamental  antithesis  is  not 
between  “unegoistic”  and  “egoistic,”  but  between  being  bound 
and  not  being  bound  by  traditional  law.  To  practise  revenge 
is  moral,  if  revenge  belongs  to  established  custom — as  it  did 
among  the  older  Greeks.  A feeling  of  respect  for  what  is 
authoritative  is  the  fundamental  note ; and  the  older,  i.e.,  the 
more  authoritative,  the  custom,  the  greater  the  respect,  until  at 
last  the  custom  becomes  holy  and  the  respect  turns  into  rever- 
ence. The  morality  of  piety,  Nietzsche  remarks,  is  a much  older 
morality  than  that  which  calls  for  unegoistic  actions.^^  For 
most  of  us  even  now  the  content  of  conscience  is  what  was 
regularly  required  of  us  apart  from  any  reason  when  we  were 
young  by  those  whom  we  revered  or  feared:  when  we  ask 
“why?”  we  leave  the  realm  of  conscience  proper.^  “Good,” 
as  more  than  “moral,”  is  applied  to  those  who  obey  the  tradi- 
tional law  as  if  by  nature,  after  long  inheritance,  hence  easily 
and  gladly. 

How  the  customs  of  a community  arise  is  another  question — 
one  which  belongs  rather  to  history  or  sociology  than  to  ethics. 
Only  after  they  exist  do  moral  distinctions  have  a meaning. 
Nietzsche  attributes  them  broadly  at  this  time  to  the  com- 
munity’s instinct  for  self-preservation.  Such  and  such  prac- 
tices are  seen  [supposed]  to  be  useful  to  the  community,  hence 
they  are  favored.  They  may  be  of  the  most  varied  character — 
some  may  not  really  he  beneficial  to  the  community,  but  being 
thought  to  be  they  become  part  of  customary  law.^  Moral 
action  is  thus  at  bottom  adoption  by  the  individual  of  the  com- 
munity’s point  of  view.  Utility  is  the  standard,  but  public  not 
private  utility.^®  The  logic  is:  the  community  is  worth  more 
than  the  individual,  and  a lasting  advantage  is  to  be  preferred 
to  a fleeting  one,  hence  the  lasting  advantage  of  the  community 

Human,  etc.,  § 96. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 52;  cf.  § 212.  On  fear  as  a moral  motive, 
see  Werke,  XI,  208-11. 

Human,  etc.,  § 96. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 40. 


122 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


is  to  be  placed  unconditionally  before  the  advantage  of  the  indi- 
vidual, particularly  his  momentary  well-being,  but  also  before 
his  lasting  advantage  or  even  his  continuance  in  life.  If  the 
individual  sutlers  from  an  arrangement  which  benefits  the 
whole,  if  he  is  stunted,  goes  to  pieces  on  its  account — the  custom 
must  none  the  less  be  maintained,  the  sacrifice  made.  This  is 
from  the  community's  point  of  view.  The  individual  himself 
may  think  differently;  he  may  invert  the  propositions  and  say 
in  his  own  case  that  the  individual  is  worth  more  than  the 
many,  and  that  present  enjoyment — a moment  in  paradise — is 
to  be  rated  higher  than  a dull  continuance  of  indifferent  states. 
But  the  community  has  the  upper  hand,  and  in  it  and  under 
it  the  individual  is  trained — trained  not  as  an  individual,  but 
as  a member  of  a whole,  one  of  a majority;  and  the  normal 
outcome  of  the  training  is  that  he  takes  the  side  of  the  majority 
{der  Eimelne  sich  selbst  majorisirt)  : this  indeed  is  what  moral- 
ity essentially  means.^® 

The  training  is  a long  historic  (one  might  say,  prehistoric) 
process.  In  subjecting  individuals,  checking  their  egoisms, 
binding  them  together,  the  community  operates  at  first  more 
or  less  by  force ; it  struggles  long  perhaps  with  their  selfishness 
and  wilfulness.  Only  late  does  free  obedience  arise.  But  when 
this  is  reached  and  it  becomes  at  last  almost  instinctive,  pleasure 
coming  to  be  associated  with  it,  as  with  all  things  habitual  and 
natural,  it  receives  the  name  of  virtue.®^  Individuals  now  not 
merely  submit  willingly  to  the  ordinary  social  restrictions,  they 
are  ready  to  sacrifice  on  occasion,  not  holding  back  their  very 
life.  And  this,  not  in  violation  of  the  general  psychological 
law  already  mentioned  that  every  one  seeks  personal  gratifica- 
tion, but  because  gratification  is  now  found  in  doing  whatever 
serves  the  common  weal.®* '' 

In  the  course  of  this  developmental  process  there  is  another 
result.  As  stated,  morality  has  its  basis  in  social  utility.  But 
in  time  actions  come  to  be  performed  without  thought  or  even 
knowledge  of  this — perhaps  from  fear  or  reverence  for  those 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 89. 

*’  Human,  etc.,  §§  99,  97 ; The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 40. 

Cf.  Human,  etc.,  §57,  as  to  the  soldier’s  sacrifice;  also  Werke,  IX, 
156,  as  to  the  state  as  perhaps  the  highest  and  most  reverend  object 
which  the  blind  and  egoistic  mass  in  the  ancient  world  knew. 


ATTITUDE  TO  MORALS 


123 


who  immediately  require  them,  or  from  being  accustomed  from 
childhood  up  to  see  others  perform  them,  or  from  benevolence, 
since  the  practice  of  them  creates  joy  and  approving  faces 
everywhere  about  one,  or  from  vanity  because  they  are  praised. 
In  other  words,  the  original  reason  for  the  action  (or  the 
custom  to  which  it  conforms)  is  lost  out  of  mind:  the  custom 
stands  as  a thing  by  itself — actions  that  conform  to  it  are  good 
on  their  own  account.  Now  such  actions  are  called  moral  par- 
ticularly— not  of  course  because  they  are  done  from  any  of  the 
special  minor  motives  mentioned,  but  because  they  are  not  done 
from  motives  of  conscious  utility A late  echo  of  such  a view 
appears,  I may  add,  in  Kant’s  treating  reverence  for  the  law, 
irrespective  of  any  utilitarian  considerations,  as  the  only  prop- 
erly moral  motive.  A second  reason  for  the  traditional  contrast 
between  morality  and  utility  has  been  already  hinted  at.  Com- 
munities had  to  struggle  long  with  individuals  seeking  their 
own  advantage  or  utility — so  long  and  so  hard,  that  every  other 
motive  came  to  be  rated  higher  than  utility.  It  appeared  then 
as  if  morality  had  not  grown  out  of  utility,  while  in  truth  it 
grew  out  of  social  utility,  which  had  great  difficulty  in  putting 
itself  through  against  all  manner  of  private  utilities.^” 

Customs  and  customary  norms  widely  vary — indeed,  so 
widely  that,  since  morality  is  simply  conformity  to  them,  there 
may  seem  to  be  nothing  really  constant  about  it.  And  yet 
Nietzsche  notes  that  some  actions  are  quite  universally  regarded 
as  good  and  others  as  evil,  inasmuch  as  they  affect  a Com- 
munity’s welfare  in  such  direct  and  obvious  ways.  Amid 
all  the  variations  of  norms,  benevolence,  pity,  and  the  like 
are  universally  regarded  as  useful,  and  at  the  present  time 
it  is  pre-eminently  the  kindly,  helpful  individual  who  is  called 
“good.”  So  to  injure  one’s  fellows  has  been  felt  in  all  the 
moral  codes  of  different  times  to  be  harmful,  and  today  when 
we  use  the  word  “evil,”  we  have  the  willing  injuring  of  a 
fellow  particularly  in  mind.^^ 

“Good”  and  “evil”  have  been  used  thus  far  in  quite  gen- 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 40. 

Ihid.,  §40;  cf.  Human,  etc.,  §39. 

Human,  etc.,  § 96;  cf.  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 190.  In  Joyful  Science, 
§ 345,  Nietzsche  appears  to  question  a moral  consensus,  but  only  in 
appearance,  and  in  his  closing  period  he  reaffirms  it. 


124 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


eral  senses.  But  Nietzsehe  has  a keen  scent  for  shades  of 
meaning,  and  he  thinks  that  at  times  these  words  have  par- 
ticular significations.  For  instance,  to  a ruling  tribe  or  class 
“good”  has  certain  associations  which  are  quite  dilferent  from 
those  that  it  has  to  a weak  and  subject  population — associa- 
tions of  power,  self-satisfaction,  and  pride.  “Evil”  {schlecht), 
the  opposite  of  “good,”  they  apply  to  those  contrasted  with 
themselves  whom  they  look  down  upon,  the  weaker,  incoherent 
mass  whom  they  have  subjected.  To  this  extent  “good”  and 
“evil”  are  like  high  and  low,  master  and  slave.  “Evil,”  so 
understood,  does  not  apply  to  an  enemy  who  is  strong — in 
Homer,  Trojan  and  Greek  alike  are  good;  “evil”  is  an  epithet 
of  contempt.  On  the  other  hand,  among  those  who  are  sub- 
jected and  powerless,  and  whose  predominant  sentiment  is  one 
of  fear,  practically  every  other  being  is  evil  {hose),  i.e.,  capable 
of  injuring  them — they  do  not  trust  one  another  enough  to  form 
a community,  or  more  than  the  rudest  kind  of  one,  and  this  is 
why  they  easily  become  subject,  or  else  disappear.  These  con- 
trasted meanings  of  good  and  evil  are  very  imperfectly  worked 
out  now — we  shall  come  on  a fresh  and  much  fuller  statement 
in  Nietzsche’s  succeeding  period.^ 

I pass  over  Nietzsche’s  analysis  (“dissection”  he  sometimes 
calls  it)  of  special  moral  conceptions,  like  justice,  equality, 
rights,  and  duties ; he  goes  on  along  the  same  lines  in  his  later 
period  and  it  will  be  convenient  to  treat  the  material  together 
in  dealing  with  that  period.  I also  pass  over  his  keen  exposure 
of  the  part  which  vanity  and  self-interest  play  in  much  that 
passes  as  moral  conduct,  though  every  student  of  morality 
would  do  well  to  attend  to  it.“ 

. IV 

Turning  now  to  his  own  moral  views,  we  find  him  still  with 
a sense  of  the  greatness  of  a dominating  idea  or  aim,^^  and  if 
he  does  not  soar  so  high  and  has  not  so  confident  a tone  as 
before,  he  is  nearer  to  life  and  actuality,  or,  as  we  might  say, 
more  human.  The  eager  thought  and  expectation  of  something 

*’  See  chap.  xix.  The  above  paragraph  is  baaed  on  Euman,  etc., 
§ 45.  Tlie  distinction  between  “ hose  ” and  “ schlecht  ” is  not  at  all 
clearly  marked  here. 

“ The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 230. 


ATTITUDE  TO  MORALS 


125 


great  and  almost  superhuman  to  come,  and  of  a new  German 
(or  European)  culture  which  should  look  that  way,  have  more 
or  less  abated,  but  he  honors  the  philosopher  as  before  and 
counts  as  the  highest  pleasures  those  of  conceiving  works  of 
art  and  doing  noble  deeds — so  that  in  effect  the  old  trinity  still 
lingers  in  his  mind.^*  With  all  his  determinism,  and  perhaps 
quite  consistently  with  it,  he  has  a sense  of  human  power.  Not 
only  can  man  know,  he  can  do.  Active  natures,  he  says,  not  so 
much  follow  the  saying,  “Know  thyself,”  as  feel  an  inner  com- 
mand, “Will  a self — and  so  become  one.”^®  We  can  deal  with 
our  impulses  more  or  less  as  a gardener  does  with  his  plants, 
encouraging  now  this  one  and  now  that:  “Woe  to  the  thinker 
who  is  not  the  gardener,  but  the  soil  for  his  plants!”^®  We 
can  strip  from  our  passions  their  fearful  character — it  is  by 
neglect  that  they  become  monsters;  he  who  conquers  them  is 
like  a colonist  who  has  become  master  of  forests  and  swamps 
and  can  now  turn  them  to  account."  “Every  day  is  ill-used 
and  a danger  for  the  next  in  which  we  have  not  at  least  once 
denied  ourselves  in  some  way:  this  gymnastics  is  indispensable, 
if  we  wish  to  keep  the  joy  of  being  our  own  master.”^*  Nietz- 
sche is  sometimes  compared  to  Callicles  in  Plato’s  “Gorgias”; 
he  is  at  least  not  like  him  so  far  as  Callicles  says,  “The  tem- 
perate man  is  a fool ; only  in  hungering  and  eating,  in  thirsting 
and  drinking,  in  having  all  his  desires  about  him  and  gratifying 
every  possible  desire  does  man  live  happily.” 

Nietzsche  holds,  indeed,  that  all  men  seek  personal  gratifica- 
tion, but  he  does  not  mean  by  this  “self-indulgence,”  nor  does 
he  imply  that  men  care  for  comfort,  or  luxury,  or  gain,  or 
honor,  or  even  continued  existence  more  than  anything  else. 
The  happinesses  of  different  stages  of  human  development  [or 
of  different  kinds  of  men]  are  incomparable  and  peculiar." 
The  Greeks  preferred  power  which  drew  upon  itself  much  evil 
to  weakness  that  experienced  only  good : the  sense  of  power  was 
itself  pleasurable  to  them — better  than  any  utility  or  good 

<4  TVerfce,  X,  482. 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 366. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 382. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  §§  37,  63;  cf.  §66. 

lUd.,  § 306. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 108;  see  also  the  conclusion  of  Human,  etc.,  § 96. 


126 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


name.^“  And  what  Nietzsche’s  own  ideal  is,  where  gratification 
lay  for  him,  is  suggested  in  what  he  says,  after  remarking  on 
the  sordid  political  parties  of  his  day,  “Live  as  higher  men,  and 
do  evermore  the  deeds  of  the  higher  culture.”®^ 

While  he  does  not  recognize,  any  more  than  earlier,  the 
practicability  of  making  every  one  an  end  in  himself,  while  he 
thinks  that  we  may  easily  overdo  pity,  and  speaks  of  the  need 
of  discrimination  and  judgment,^  his  feelings  of  broad  human 
sympathy  and  love  are  as  strong  as  ever.  The  cold  look  which 
superior  people  have  for  their  servants  displeases  him.®^  He 
finds  it  something  fearful  for  a man  to  have  less  than  three 
hundred  Thaler  a year,  or  to  have  to  beg  like  a child  and  to 
humble  himself.®^  He  has  even  sentiment  for  the  criminal,  as 
we  have  seen — and  speaks  of  our  crime  against  him  in  that  we 
treat  him  as  a scamp  (Schuft).  At  times  a wondering  sense  of 
the  worth  of  man  as  such  comes  over  him:  not  only  is  nature 
too  beautiful  for  us  poor  mortals,  but  man  is,  not  merely  one 
who  is  moral,  but  every  man.®®  Really  Nietzsche  wishes  (now  as 
earlier)  to  consider  all,  and,  though  in  varying  ways,  to  give 
a meaning  to  every  life.®®  This  does  not  imply,  however,  that 
we  must  always  be  directly  doing  for  others.  One  who  makes 
a whole  person  out  of  himself,  who  developes  all  his  peculiar 
individual  being,  may  in  the  long  run  go  further  in  contributing 
to  the  general  advantage,  than  one  who  gives  himself  up  to 
acts  of  benevolence  and  pity.®^  If  egoism  be  taken  in  this  higher 
sense,  it  may  be  questioned  whether  the  egoistic  is  not  useful 
in  a much  higher  degree,  even  to  other  men,  than  the  unego- 
istic.®®"  The  individual  is  thus  still  regarded  in  the  light  of 
a public  utility,  and  so  far  Nietzsche  does  not  in  his  own  view 
transcend  the  utilitarian  standpoint  which  he  accredits  to  moral- 
ity in  general. 

At  the  same  time  we  feel  that  a different  standpoint  is 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 360. 

'‘'Human,  etc.,  § 480. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 41. 

Human,  etc.,  § 64. 

“ Ibid.,  § 470. 

'"‘Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 342;  cf.  The  Wanderer  otc.,  §49. 

" Dawn  of  Day,  § 202. 

" Human,  etc.,  § 95;  cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 174. 

Werke,  XI,  39,  § 77. 


ATTITUDE  TO  MORALS 


127 


shaping  itself  in  his  mind,  though  at  first  tentatively  and  ques- 
tioningly.  Communities,  as  we  have  seen,  are  the  raison  d’etre 
of  morality — without  them  and  their  fixed  norms  {Bitten),  it 
would  never  have  arisen.  The  individual  is  looked  at  as  existing 
for  the  community,  as  a function  or  functionary  of  it — apart 
from  it  he  really  means  nothing,  nothing  of  importance:  such, 
in  abstract 0,  is  morality’s  standpoint.  But  just  here  Nietzsche 
finds  himself  questioning.  Is  this  social  [moral]  significance  all 
that  a man  has?  Has  he  no  properly  individual  being  and 
value?  May  there  not  be  acts  of  no  advantage  to  society  and 
still  well  worth  while?  He  has  a reflection  like  the  follow- 
ing: There  are  certain  things  which  we  cannot  do  as  members 
of  society,  though  we  may  as  private  individuals,  e.g.,  show 
mercy  to  a breaker  of  the  law ; it  is  something  which  endangers 
society — society  as  such  cannot  do  it  or  sanction  it,  though  it 
may  leave  certain  favored  individuals  free  to  do  it  (the  king 
or  executive),  and  we  may  all  be  happy  when  the  privilege  is 
exercised,  though  glad  in  our  private  hearts  rather  than  as 
citizens.^®  The  idea  of  a possible  significance  which  is  purely 
individual  appears  still  more  clearly  in  the  following:  “The 
active  class  of  men  lack  ordinarily  the  higher  type  of  activity; 
I mean  the  individual.  They  are  active  as  officials,  business 
men,  scholars,  i.e.,  as  members  of  a species,  but  not  as  quite 
definite  individuals  and  single  men;  in  this  respect  they  are 
lazy.”®“  The  paragraph  closes:  “All  men  may  be  classed,  now 
as  in  all  times,  as  slave  and  free;  for  whoever  does  not  have 
three-fourths  of  the  day  to  himself  is  a slave,  whatever  else  he 
may  be — statesman,  business  man,  official,  or  scholar.”  We 
have  already  observed  his  feeling  about  society’s  turning  men 
into  functionaries  to  defend  it  against  crime;  but  if  man’s 
being  is  in  his  social  functioning,  why  should  our  “higher 
humanity”  be  hurt,  and  what  is  the  sense  in  speaking  of  “sacri- 
fice”? There  is  the  same  implication  in  a distinction  he  makes, 
in  speaking  of  factory  slavery  and  organization,  between  a 
person  and  a screw — the  underlying  thought  being  that  a screw 
is  for  others’  uses,  a person  for  his  own.®^ 

Indeed  Nietzsche  once  raises  a strange  question  (strange, 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 34.  Human,  etc.,  § 283. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 206. 


128 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


that  is,  to  us  of  today  with  our  prevailing  social  estimates  of 
everything) : Grant  that  all  men  exist  for  social  purposes  and 
are  functions  of  the  social  mechanism,  what  is  the  purpose  of 
the  mechanism  itself?  To  quote  his  words,  “Humanity  uses 
up  regardlessly  each  single  person  as  fuel  for  its  great  ma- 
chines: but  for  what  purpose  then  are  the  machines,  if  all 
single  persons  are  only  of  use  in  maintaining  them?  Machines 
that  are  ends  in  themselves — ^is  that  the  umana  commedia?” 
To  us  in  these  days  society  is  an  ultima  ratio — if  anything  can 
be  shown  to  be  for  the  good  of  society,  we  are  as  completely 
satisfied  as  former  ages  were  to  have  it  shown  that  anything 
was  for  the  glory  of  God.  The  import  of  Nietzsche’s  question 
will  become  clearer  later  on. 


®-  Human,  etc.,  § 585. 


CHAPTER  XII 


SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  VIEWS  AND  FORECASTS 

In  no  way,  perhaps,  did  Nietzsche  come  to  differ  more  fr6!^ 
Schopenhauer  than  in  his  sense  of  the  possibility  of  change — 
whether  in  the  individual  or  in  society  generally.  What  may 
be  called  the  historical  view  of  reality  was  almost  lacking  in 
Schopenhauer — owing  in  part  no  doubt  to  his  conviction  of  the 
subjectivity  of  time.'‘  No  thoroughgoing  Kantian,  I may  say, 
can  believe  in  the  final  reality  of  an  historical  process.  It  is 
possible  that  Nietzsche’s  vivid  sense  of  his  own  changes  had 
something  to  do  with  the  formal  relinquishment  of  his  early 
subjectivism  as  to  time,  which  we  shall  come  upon  later  on.'’ 

I 

In  any  ease  the  area  of  possible  change  for  men  and  society 
is  now  large  to  him.  Disillusioned  about  the  near  advent  of 
a new  tragic  culture,  he  is  not  without  compensatory  thoughts. 
Is  it  not  possible,  he  asks,  to  remove  some  evils  rather  than 
merely  try  to  turn  them  into  subjects  of  art,  or  to  find  consola- 
tion for  them  in  religion  ? ' The  ancients  strove  to  forget  the 
sufferings  of  existence,  or  else  to  make  them  agreeable  through 
art — they  worked  palliatively ; we  today  wish  to  work  prophy- 
lactically  and  attack  the  causes  of  suffering.^  “Artists  glorify 
continually — they  do  nothing  else,”  he  somewhat  impatiently 
observes.®  He  thinks  that  art  is  a resource  for  moments  and 
becomes  dangerous  when  it  sets  up  for  more — a halt  should  be 
called  to  its  fanatical  pretensions.^  With  a touch  of  irony,  he 
notes  that  removing  evil  may  make  it  hard  for  the  tragic  poets, 
whose  stock  of  material  would  so  far  diminish,  and  harder  still 
for  the  priests,  whose  main  business  hitherto  has  been  to  nar- 
cotize ; but  both  classes,  he  thinks,  belong  to  the  non-progressive 

' Human,  etc.,  § 108. 

“ Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 187. 

’ Joyful  Science,  § 85. 

‘So  Werke  (1st  ed. ),  XI,  § 347,  as  cited  by  Riehl,  op.  cit.,  p.  153. 
Human,  etc.,  § 148,  is  to  the  same  effect. 

129 


130 


NIETZSCOE  THE  THINKER 


forces  of  societ3^®  Pr^ogress  is  doubted  by  artists,  and  by  meta- 
physical philosophe?i’s  like  Schopenhauer,  but  the  very  fact  that 
we  are  now  passsing  out  of  the  tropical  zone  of  culture  with  its 
violent  contrasts  and  glowing  colors,  in  which  artists  live,  into 
the  cooler-,  clearer,  temperate  zone  of  science,  seems  to  him  an 
instaneoe  of  progress.®  He  questions  indeed  the  necessity  of 
prpjgress  and  thinks  that  the  days  of  the  unconscious  sort  may 
’be  over;  all  the  same,  he  urges  that  we  might  now  consciously 
strive  for  a new  culture,  might  create  better  conditions  for  the 
rise  of  human  beings,  for  their  nourishment,  training,  and 
instruction,  might  undertake  an  economic  administration  of  the 
earth  as  a whole,  measuring  and  distributing  the  forces  of  men 
wisely  to  this  end — and  this  would  surely  be  progress  and  would 
itself  destroy  the  old  mistrust  of  progress.^  Nietzsche  really 
began,  as  we  have  seen,  with  a general  hope  of  this  character; 
the  difference  is  now  that  he  has  been  somewhat  chastened  and 
no  longer  looks  for  appreciable  help  from  art,  and  that  he 
emphasizes  certain  practically  necessary  measures — something 
which  preoccupation  with  art  is  liable  to  make  one  neglect.  At 
the  same  time  he  continues  to  be  thinker  rather  than  himself 
reformer — believing,  like  Socrates,  that  “a  private  life,  not  a 
public  one,”  is  alone  suitable  to  him,  and  not  having  any  too 
high  idea  of  existing  states  and  of  the  kind  of  political  activity 
they  make  necessary  anyway.® 

As  regards  the  economic  structure  of  society,  there  is  no 
change  from  the  view  that  slavery  is  necessary.  A higher  cul- 
ture can  arise  only  where  there  are  the  two  castes  of  those  who 
labor  and  those  possessed  of  leisure,  or,  as  he  sometimes  puts 
it,  of  compulsory  labor  and  free  labor.  The  way  in  which 
happiness  (Gliick)  is  distributed  is  not  vital  when  the  produc- 
tion of  a higher  culture  is  at  stake ; in  any  case  it  is  those  with 
leisure,  to  whom  come  the  greater  tasks,  who  have  less  ease  in 
existence,  who  suffer  more.  If  only  there  might  be  exchange 
between  the  castes,  so  that  worn-out  stocks  and  individuals  in 
the  upper  could  descend  into  the  lower,  and  freer  men  among 
the  lower  could  rise  to  the  higher,  a state  would  be  reached, 

’•Human,  etc.,  § 108;  cf.  §§  147,  148,  159. 

® lUd.,  § 108. 

’ Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 187. 

® Cf.  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 232;  Dawn  of  Day,  § 179. 


SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  VIEWS 


131 


beyond  which  only  indefinite  wishes  are  possible.®  Something 
of  this  sort  was,  I think,  suggested  by  Huxley — and  it  shows 
that  it  was  not  a caste  system,  in  the  sense  of  one  with  impass- 
able barriers,  that  Nietzsche  had  in  mind.  More  or  less  of  this 
exchange — at  least  in  the  downward  direction — takes  place  in 
caste  societies  as  matter  of  fact.  According  to  Professor 
Sumner,  a Plantagenet  was  a butcher  in  a suburb  of  London 
a few  years  ago,  and  representatives  of  the  great  medigeval 
families  may  now  be  found  as  small  farmers,  farm  laborers,  or 
tramps  in  England  (Hardy  using  a fact  of  this  kind  in  less 
of  the  D’Urbervilles) If  things  like  this  could  happen  in 
both  directions  and  with  reasonable  promptness  and  in  accord- 
ance with  a recognized  social  law,  Nietzsche’s  somewhat  shadowy 
idea  would  be  realized — of  course,  changes  in  the  laws  of  inheri- 
tance would  be  necessary. 

As  to  property  (Besitz),  Nietzsche  thinks  that  only  those 
with  mind  should  have  it ; otherwise  it  is  an  element  of  danger 
in  a community.  He  who  does  not  know  how  to  use  the  free 
time  which  its  possession  gives  strives  for  more — it  is  his  way 
of  diverting  himself,  of  fighting  boredom;  and  so  from  mod- 
erate possessions,  which  would  suffice  an  intellectual  man, 
comes  wealth  proper — a shining  consequence  of  the  lack  of 
independence  and  intellectual  poverty  in  one  who  amasses  it, 
and  at  the  same  time  something  that  excites  the  envy  of  the 
poor  and  uneducated,  and  prepares  the  way  for  a social  revolu- 
tion.^^ Only  up  to  a certain  point  does  property  serve  its  pur- 
pose of  making  one  more  independent  and  free;  beyond  that, 
property  becomes  the  master  and  the  owner  a slave.^®  Nietzsche 
sometimes  draws  almost  a contemptuous  picture  of  mere  riches, 
his  attitude  being  only  softened  by  the  reflection  that  rich  men 
are  half -ashamed  of  themselves  [a  type  with  which  we  do  not 
appear  to  be  acquainted  in  America].  He  makes  sport  of  the 
dinners  of  the  rieh,^^  gives  instances  of  how  the  love  of  money 
makes  one  unscrupulous,^®  notes  the  unhappy  effect  of  American 

' Human,  etc.,  § 439. 

’°W.  G.  Sumner,  Folkicays,  p.  166. 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  §310. 

Ihid.,  §317. 

“ The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 209;  Daicn  of  Day,  § 186. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 203. 

“ Ihid.,  § 204. 


132 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


gold-hunger  on  Europe  in  destroying  the  true  estimate  of 
leisure,  in  banishing  eeremony  from  social  intercourse,  in  making 
letter-writing  the  style-less,  mindless  thing  it  has  come  to  be, 
in  reducing  pleasure  to  what  overworked  slaves  have  to  have 
to  recreate  and  amuse  them — we  all  want  to  be  “busy,”  and 
are  ashamed  of  what  makes  for  the  ease  and  grace  and  dignity 
of  lifed® 

This  does  not  mean  that  Nietzsehe  fails  to  appreciate  what 
industry  and  commerce  are  doing  for  our  time — he  even  says 
that  it  is  the  commercial  class  who  keep  us  from  falling  back 
into  barbarism  (having  in  mind  telegraphs,  geographical  ex- 
plorations, industrial  inventions,  etc.).^^  It  is  not  commerce, 
but  the  motives  behind  it,  the  methods  it  too  often  pursues,  that 
lead  to  reflections  like  those  cited.  Men  are  after  money,  and 
do  almost  anything  for  a rich  return.*®  He  finds  exchange 
honorable  and  just,  when  each  party  is  guided  by  the  thought 
of  what  an  article  is  worth  (taking  into  account  a variety  of 
faetors  that  determine  worth)  ; but  when  either  is  influenced 
by  the  thought  of  the  needs  of  the  other,  he  is  only  a refined 
robber  and  extortioner.*®  He  notes  that  the  merchant  and  the 
pirate  were  for  a long  time  one  and  the  same  person,  bartering 
being  resorted  to  when  force  was  not  expedient;  and  eurrent 
business  morality  now  is  really  only  a refinement  of  pirate 
morality — the  maxim  being  to  buy  as  eheaply  and  sell  as  dearly 
as  possible.®®  It  is  accordingly  the  mark  of  the  higher  type  of 
man  not  to  be  at  home  in  trade.  For  a teacher,  an  official,  an 
artist  to  sell  his  ability  for  the  highest  price,  or  to  practise 
usury  with  it,  is  to  drop  to  the  shop-keeper’s  level.®*  A principal 
cause  of  bad  conditions  in  Germany  is,  that  there  are  far  too 
many  living  off  trade  and  wishing  to  live  well  there — hence 
reducing  prices  to  the  utmost  limit  to  producers,  raising  them 
to  the  utmost  limit  to  consumers,  and  drawing  profit  from  the 
greatest  possible  injury  to  both.®® 

Ibid.,  §§  203-4;  Joyful  Science,  § 329.  Cf.  the  characterization  of 
modern  “ holidays,”  Dawn  of  Day,  § 178. 

” Werhe,  XI,  139,  § 441. 

Joyful  Science,  § 42. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  §25;  cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  §175. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 22. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 308. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 282. 


SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  VIEWS 


133 


Nietzsche’s  attitude  to  the  laborer,  whether  we  agree  with 
it  or  not,  cannot  be  called  unsympathetic.  We  today,  in  con- 
trast with  the  ancient  world,  like  to  exalt  labor,  but  he  does  not 
think  that  we  treat  the  laborer  much  better,  and  he  raises  the 
question  whether  our  talk  has  not  some  cynicism  in  it,  or  at 
least  tartuferieP^  He  prefers  plain  speaking,  and  uses  such 
terms  as  slavery,  and  in  particular  factory-slavery,  much  as  the 
socialists  do.^^  He  has  a sense  of  the  unhappy  effect  of  the 
modern  machine  upon  the  workers.  It  depersonalizes  labor, 
strips  it  of  its  bit  of  humanity,  turns  men  into  machines.  Al- 
though it  liberates  a vast  amount  of  energy,  it  gives  no  impulse 
to  higher  development,  to  doing  better  work,  to  becoming  more 
artistic ; it  shows  how  masses  may  co-operate  by  each  one  doing 
one  thing,  and  so  becomes  a pattern  for  party  organization  and 
the  conduct  of  war — its  most  general  effect  is  to  teach  the  uses 
of  centralization.^®  Once  he  suggests  certain  remedies  against 
what  is  injurious  in  machine-labor — first,  frequent  interchange 
of  labor  among  those  working  at  a machine  or  at  different  ma- 
chines; second,  getting  a comprehension  of  the  total  structure 
of  the  machine,  including  knowledge  of  its  defects  and  the 
possibilities  of  improving  it;  he  finds  suggestive  the  example 
of  a democratic  state,  which  changes  its  officials  often.^®  As  to 
the  deserts  of  labor,  he  gives  up  the  attempt  to  estimate  them — 
indeed,  desert  in  general  is  for  him  an  illusory  conception,  as 
we  have  already  seen ; all  the  same  he  finds  considerations  of 
utility  in  order,  and  believes  that  justice  as  a highly  refined 
utility  may  well  come  into  play.  By  this  he  means  a long-range 
view  of  consequences,  one  which  takes  account  not  of  a mo- 
mentary situation  merely,  but  of  the  future  as  well,  hence  of 
the  well-being  of  the  laborer,  his  contentment  in  body  and  mind, 
so  that  he  and  his  children  may  work  well  for  coming  genera- 
tions. From  this  point  of  view  the  exploitation  of  the  laborer 
is  a stupidity,  a robbery  at  the  expense  of  the  future,  an  im- 
periling of  society.  Nietzsche  thinks  that  we  have  now  almost 

Dawn  of  Day,  §173;  cf.  Joyful  Science,  §§  188,  329,  which  con- 
tinue the  tone  of  Werke,  IX,  145-51.  On  the  ancient  view,  see  also 
Sumner,  op.  cit.,  pp.  160-2. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 206. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  §§  288,  220,  218. 

= « Werke,  XI,  141,  § 449. 


134) 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


come  to  a state  of  war  in  society;  at  least  the  costs  of  main- 
taining peace  are  becoming  enormous,  the  folly  of  the  exploiting 
classes  being  so  great  and  so  persistent.^^  He  deems  a social 
revolution  not  unlikely.® 

The  educated  classes  in  general  are  not  without  responsibility 
for  the  situation.  If  we  complain  of  lack  of  discipline  among 
the  masses,  the  reproach  falls  back  heavily  on  them ; the  masses 
are  just  as  good  and  just  as  bad  as  the  educated  are;  they  set 
the  tone,  and  elevate  and  corrupt  the  mass  as  they  elevate  or 
corrupt  themselves.®  A part  of  the  trouble,  too,  lies  in  the  lack 
of  personal  relation  between  employers  and  employed.  We  pay 
any  one  we  know  and  respect,  who  does  us  a service,  whether 
he  be  physician,  artist,  or  hand-worker,  as  high  as  we  can, 
perhaps  beyond  our  means;  but  an  unknown  person  we  pay  as 
little  as  practicable — the  human  element  or  relation  disappears.® 
Manners,  breeding  are  also  a factor.  It  is  strange,  Nietzsche 
says,  that  subjection  to  powerful,  fear-inspiring,  even  frightful 
persons,  to  tyrants  and  military  commanders,  is  not  so  painfully 
felt,  as  subjection  to  unknown  and  uninteresting  persons  such 
as  the  great  men  of  industry  are : the  laborer  sees  in  his  em- 
ployer usually  only  a cunning  dog  of  a man,  who  drains  him 
and  speculates  on  his  needs,  and  whose  name,  shape,  and  repu- 
tation are  utterly  indifferent  to  him.  Manufacturers  and  great 
leaders  of  business  have  apparently  lacked  quite  too  much  thus 
far  all  those  forms  and  signs  of  a higher  race,  which  first  make 
persons  interesting;  had  there  been  the  distinction  of  the  born 
noble  in  their  look  and  bearing,  perhaps  socialism  would  never 
have  developed  among  the  masses.  For  these  at  bottom  are 
ready  for  any  kind  of  slavery,  provided  that  the  man  who  stands 
over  them  continually  legitimates  himself  as  one  horn  to  com- 
mand— by  distinction  of  manner!  The  commonest  man  feels 
that  such  distinction  is  not  to  be  improvised  and  that  in  it  he 
honors  the  fruit  of  a long  past — but  the  absence  of  it  and  the 
notorious  manufacturer-vulgarity  with  red  fat  hands  bring 
him  to  the  thought  that  only  accident  and  luck  have  elevated 
one  man  above  another — and  so  he  says  to  himself,  “Let  us  try 
accident  and  luck!  We  will  throw  the  dice!” — and  socialism 

” The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 286.  “ Ibid.,  XI,  377,  § 572. 

28  -[Ygrlce,  XI,  369,  § 559.  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 283. 


SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  VIEWS 


135 


begins.^^^  And  yet  Nietzsche  does  not  think  it  necessary  that 
the  workers  shall  always  live  as  they  live  now.  Dipping  into 
the  future,  one  of  the  things  he  conceives  possible  is  that  eco- 
nomic relations  might  be  so  ordered  that  there  would  be  no 
longer  the  desperate  anxiety  about  living  and  dying  which 
prevails  at  present.^^  This  does  not  mean,  however,  really  rising 
out  of  slavery.  If  the  workers  are  bent  on  that,  they  must  be  ready 
to  leave  existing  civilization,  become  emigrants,  colonists,  incur 
risks  of  want  and  danger.  He  is  evidently  not  without  admira- 
tion for  those  who  should  take  so  heroic  a step,  and  is  ironical 
about  those  who  are  willing  to  remain  screws,  if  they  can  only 
be  better  paid,  i.e.,  who  put  a price  upon  their  personality — 
ironical  too  about  those  who  think,  socialist  fashion,  that  if 
they  can  only  be  screws  in  the  great  machine  called  the  state, 
all  will  change,  and  their  slavery  become  a virtue.  “Poor, 
happy,  and  independent!  this  is  all  possible  at  the  same  time; 
poor,  happy,  and  slave! — this  also  is  possible” — though  there 
can  be  little  doubt  which  of  the  possibilities  Nietzsche  ranks 
higher.^^ 


II 

Turning  now  to  the  political  field,  we  find  Nietzsche  inclined 
to  look  at  democracy  as  a fait  accompli,  and  disposed  to  turn 
it  to  the  best  possible  account.  The  “enlightenment”  {Auf- 
kldrung)  of  the  eighteenth  century  was  in  itself  a good,  and  if 
the  changes  naturally  ensuing  had  been  slow,  if  customs  and 
institutions  had  been  gradually  modified,  all  would  have  been 
well.  But  with  the  French  Revolution  the  movement  took  a 
violent  turn,  and  trying  to  be  sudden  and  complete  the  Revolu- 
tion became  a pathetic  and  bloody  piece  of  quackery ® 
Democracy,  however,  is  not  his  ideal.  He  desires  a rule  of  the 
intelligent  rather  than  of  the  many,  and  once  ventures  to 
suggest  a way  for  getting  them.  It  would  he  really  a process 
of  self-selection,  or  rather  mutual-selection.  First,  the  honest 
and  trustworthy  of  a country,  who  are  at  the  same  time  in 

Joyful  Science,  §40. 

Werke,  XI,  377,  § 572. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 206. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  §22;  Dawn  of  Day,  § 634;  cf.  Werke,  XI,  369, 

§ 559. 


136 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


some  respect  masters  and  experts,  would  segregate  themselves, 
by  a process  of  scenting  one  another  out  and  reciprocal  recog- 
nition ; and  then  from  among  these,  such  as  are  of  the  first  rank 
in  each  special  line  would  select  themselves,  again  by  reciprocal 
recognition  and  guarantees.  These  last  would  constitute  the 
legislative  body,  and  thus  the  highest  grade  of  specialized  ability 
w'ould  be  brought  to  bear  on  the  making  of  laws,  each  branch 
of  specialists  deciding  on  the  questions  in  their  province,  the  rest 
being  honorable  and  decent  enough  to  leave  things  in  their  hands. 
In  this  way  laws  would  be  strictly  the  outcome  of  the  intelli- 
gence of  the  most  intelligent.  Now  parties  decide  things,  and 
every  time  that  a vote  is  taken  there  must  be  hundreds  of  bad 
consciences — so  many  are  ill-instructed,  or  incapable  of  judging, 
and  simply  follow  others  or  are  dragged  along.  Nothing  lowers 
the  dignity  of  a new  law  so  much  as  the  blush  of  dishonesty 
to  which  every  party  vote  compels.  Nietzsche  is  aware  that  it 
is  easy  to  propose  and  hard  to  carry  out  such  a scheme,  but  he 
has  the  hope  that  sometime  faith  in  the  utility  of  science  and  of 
men  who  know  will  arise  in  the  most  unwilling  and  replace  the 
present  faith  in  numbers.^^  Besides,  he  argues  that  the  system 
of  having  everybody  vote  depends  logically  on  everybody’s 
wanting  to  vote,  the  will  of  a majority  not  being  sufficient  to 
constitute  a universal  rule,  and  he  doubts  whether  all  do  want 
to  vote  now,  since  so  many  do  not  use  th  ' privilege  they  have.^® 
But  with  all  his  argumentation  he  accepts  the  situation  as  he 
finds  it,  and  he  realizes  the  ironical  side  of  it  for  the  old  ruling 
classes.^^  “The  poor  reigning  princes!  All  their  rights  are 
turning  themselves  now  unexpectedly  into  claims,  and  all  these 
claims  soon  sound  like  pretensions!”^®  King  and  emperor  are 
becoming  almost  ciphers  in  ordinary  times — symbols,  ornaments, 
beautiful  superfluities;  though  on  this  account  they  cling  the 
more  tenaciously  to  their  dignity  as  war-lords — and  need  wars 
on  occasion,  i.e.,  exceptional  circumstances  in  which  the  demo- 
cratic pressure  is  interrupted.®® 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 318. 

•“  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 276. 

He  comes  nearest  to  positive  sympathy  with  democracy  In  Human, 
etc.,  § 450. 

Joyful  Science,  § 176. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 281. 


SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  VIEWS 


137 


Nietzsche  even  finds  advantages  in  the  new  regime,  in  which 
government  does  not  so  much  rule  the  people  as  become  their 
organ.  “Democratic  institutions  are  quarantine  stations  against 
the  old  pest  of  tyrannical  ambitions — as  such,  very  useful  and 
very  tedious.”^®  The  democratizing  of  Europe  now  going  on 
seems  to  him  a link  in  the  chain  of  those  immense  prophylactic 
measures,  characteristic  of  the  new  time,  by  which  we  are  mark- 
ing ourselves  off  against  the  Middle  Ages.  At  last  we  are  to 
get  a sure  foundation,  on  which  the  future  can  build.  We  shall 
make  it  impossible  for  fruitful  fields  of  culture  to  be  destroyed 
in  a night  by  wild  and  senseless  mountain  floods,  shall  put  up 
dams  and  walls  against  barbarians,  against  pestilences,  against 
whatever  would  subject  the  bodies  or  the  minds  of  men.  It  is 
crude,  rough  work  at  the  start,  but  it  will  prepare  the  way  for 
something  higher  and  more  spiritual  to  come — as  the  gardener 
has  first  to  protect  his  field,  and  then  proceeds  to  plant.  Yes, 
Nietzsche  will  not  judge  the  workers  for  democracy  too  harshly, 
if  for  the  time  being  they  consider  democracy  an  end,  instead 
of  a means.^^  What  democracy  wants  to  do  is  to  create  and 
guarantee  independence  for  as  many  as  possible — independence 
of  thought,  of  manner  of  life,  and  of  occupation.  To  this  end, 
however,  it  must  make  restrictions — must  deny  the  right  to  vote 
on  the  one  hand  to  the  propertyless,  on  the  other  to  the  really 
rich.  These  are  the  two  unpermissible  classes  in  the  community, 
for  whose  removal  democracy  must  continually  labor,  the  one 
because  they  are  without  independence,  the  other  because 
they  threaten  it ; they  and  the  party  system  are  the  three 
great  foes  of  independence.  He  is  aware  that  democracy 
of  this  character  belongs  to  the  future;  for  present-day  democ- 
racy differs  from  older  forms  of  government  simply  in  that  it 
drives  with  new  horses — the  streets  are  the  old  ones,  and  the 
vehicles  the  old  ones  too.^^  With  similar  concern  for  inde- 
pendence, Nietzsche  hopes  that  the  new  rulers  will  not  try  to 
rule  everywhere,  or  make  standards  convenient  to  the  majority 
binding  on  all.  Some  scattering  individuals  should  be  allowed 
to  hold  aloof  from  polities,  if  they  will.  They  should  also  be 
forgiven  if  they  do  not  take  the  happiness  of  the  many  as  so 
supremely  important,  and  become  ironical  now  and  then ; their 
/6id.,  § 289.  Ibid.,  §215.  Ibid.,  § 2d3. 


138 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


earnestness  is  in  other  directions,  their  ideas  of  happiness  are 
peculiar,  their  aim  is  not  one  that  every  hand  with  five  fingers 
can  grasp.  Still  further,  they  should  be  allowed  on  occasion  to 
break  their  solitude  by  speaking  to  one  another  (they  will  be 
somewhat  like  men  lost  in  the  woods)  and  encouraging  one 
another,  even  if  they  say  some  things  which  jar  on  ears  for 
which  they  were  not  intended.^^  Despite  all  this,  Nietzsche 
thinks  it  perfectly  natural  and  legitimate  that  the  many  should 
act  with  a view  to  their  own  interests ; it  is  to  be  expected  that, 
through  the  great  parliamentary  majorities  they  are  likely  to 
obtain,  they  will  attack  by  progressive  taxes  the  capitalistic, 
commercial,  and  speculating  classes.  Indeed  in  this  way  they 
may  gradually  bring  about  a condition  of  things  between  the 
extremes  of  poverty  and  wealth,  in  which  socialism  will  be 
forgotten.^^  ^ 

III 

Socialism  is  a combined  economic  and  political  problem,  and 
it  may  be  well  to  note  Nietzsche’s  views  at  this  point  in  some 
detail.  Anarchists  he  looks  upon  as  backward  and  untamed 
people  who  will  rule  hard,  if  they  get  the  upper  hand — they 
enjoy  the  sense  of  power  too  much ; but  for  socialists  he  has  a 
certain  limited  sympathy — he  speaks  of  them  as  one  of  the  signs 
of  the  “coming  century.  He  practically  takes  the  socialist 
movement  as  a “rising  of  those  oppressed  and  held  down  for 
centuries  against  their  oppressors.”  The  problem  it  presents 
to  us  practically  is  not  one  of  right,  “how  far  should  we  yield 
to  its  demands,”  but  one  of  power,  “how  far  can  we  utilize 
them” — just  as  with  a force  of  nature,  steam,  for  example, 
which  may  either  be  brought  into  the  service  of  man  or  may 
destroy  him.  To  solve  the  problem,  we  must  know  how  strong 
socialism  is,  and  in  what  modified  form  it  might  be  used  as  a 
lever  in  the  present  play  of  political  forces;  in  certain  con- 
tingencies, it  might  be  a duty  to  do  everything  to  strengthen 
it.^®  It  will  first  win  rights,  when  war  threatens  between  the 
old  forces  and  the  new,  and  prudent  calculation  on  both  sides 
creates  the  desire  for  a compact  or  agreement — for  compacts 

**  Human,  etc.,  § 438. 

“ The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 292. 

Daivn  of  Day,  S 184;  Werke,  XI,  376,  § 571. 

Human,  etc.,  § 446. 


SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  VIEWS 


139 


are  the  source  of  all  rights  [Nietzsche  remarks  that  up  to  the 
time  of  his  writing — 1877  apparently — there  had  been  no  war 
or  compacts,  hence  there  were  no  rights  or  “ought”  in  the 
matter]  5 The  movement  is,  of  course,  a movement  of  those 
interested,  but  Nietzsche  recognizes  that  it  may  also  be  es- 
poused by  persons  from  other  classes  animated  simply  by  senti- 
ments of  justice  and  ready  to  practise  it  at  their  own  cost — 
high-minded  (if  not  just  very  discerning)  representatives  of 
the  ruling  class  might  act  in  this  way.^® 

For  his  own  part  he  admits  the  socialist  contention  that  the 
present  distribution  of  property  is  the  consequence  of  number- 
less injustices  and  violences;  he  simply  adds  that  this  is  only 
one  instance,  the  old  culture  in  general  being  built  on  a basis  of 
force,  slavery,  deception,  and  error.  He  thinks  that  the  unjust 
disposition  lurks  everywhere,  in  the  propertyless  as  well  as 
propertied,  and  that  the  needful  thing  is  hot  violences,  but 
the  gradual  alteration  of  men’s  minds,  justice  becoming  greater 
and  violent  instincts  weaker  on  all  sides.^®  He  considers  the 
remedies  of  an  equal  division  of  property  and  common  owner- 
ship, and  finds  them  both  impracticable.  Instead  he  urges  that 
avenues  to  small  ownership  should  be  kept  wide  open,  and  that 
the  acquisition  of  wealth  suddenly  and  without  effort  should  be 
prevented.  In  particular  should  all  branches  of  transportation 
and  trade  which  are  favorable  to  the  amassing  of  great  wealth — 
he  instances  especially  banking  (Geldhandel) — be  taken  out  of 
private  hands : it  comes  pretty  near  to  practical  socialism.® 

He  even  meets  by  an  illuminating  explanation  an  objection 
often  made  to  socialism,  namely,  that  it  overlooks  the  matter- 
of-fact  inequalities  between  men.  It  does  so,  he  says,  much  as 
Christianity  overlooks  differences  in  human  sinfulness — they 
are  too  slight  to  be  taken  into  account:  in  the  total  reckoning 
all  are  sinful  and  need  salvation.  So  socialism  regards  the 
common  nature  and  powers  and  needs  of  men  as  so  much  more 
important  than  the  respects  in  which  they  differ,  that  it  de- 
liberately puts  the  latter  to  one  side — and  in  the  resolve  tn 
ignore  differences  lies  an  inspiring  force.®^ 

And  yet  on  the  whole  Nietzsche  is  hostile  to  socialism.  The 

*’■  Ihid.,  § 446.  °°  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 285. 

Ihid.,  § 451.  " Werke,  XI,  141,  § 448. 

Ibid.,  § 452. 


140  NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 

only  means  of  counteracting  it  which  the  well-to-do  have  in 
their  power  is,  not  to  provoke  it,  to  live  temperately  and 
frugally,  to  avoid  all  luxurious  display  and  support  the  state 
instead  of  opposing  it  when  it  lays  taxes  on  superfluities  and 
luxuries.  If  they  lack  the  will  to  do  this,  the  only  difference 
remaining  between  them  and  the  socialists  is  that  they  possess 
and  the  socialists  want  to — the  aims  are  the  same.  He  gives 
a scathing  description  of  the  lives  and  pleasures  of  the  present 
possessing  class.®^  The  unhappy  thing  is  that  the  workers  are 
now  bent  on  aping  them,  are  becoming  “fellow-conspirators 
in  the  present  folly  of  nations,  who  want  before  everything  else 
to  produce  as  much  and  to  become  as  rich  as  possible.”  “ Nietz- 
sche’s ideals  are  elsewhere,  and  he  does  not  think  too  much 
comfort  and  wealth  and  security  good  for  man.  If  the  socialists 
and  worshipers  of  the  state  had  their  way,  they  might  with 
their  measures  for  making  life  happy  and  secure  bring  Europe 
to  Chinese  conditions  and  a Chinese  “happiness,”  with  dis- 
satisfaction on  any  great  scale  and  capacity  for  transformation 
gone.®^  Ideals  of  security  and  comfort  are  pre-eminently  the 
mark  of  a commercial  age,  which  wants  to  have  everything  easy 
for  trade  and  the  state  a sort  of  arm-chair.^®  He  wishes,  indeed, 
a certain  measure  of  comfort  and  security  for  the  working 
class,  but  to  make  this  an  absolute  ideal,  to  leave  no  free,  wild 
spaces  in  society  where  risk  and  danger  exist — this,  he  feels, 
would  be  to  banish  the  conditions  under  which  great  men  and 
great  enterprises  arise.®®  To  him  socialism  seems  practically 
identical  with  a despotic  state,  in  which  individuals  with  indi- 
vidual instincts  and  aims  appear  unjustifiable  luxuries,  and  all 
are  turned  into  organs  of  the  community — a conception  the 
general  form  of  which  we  saw  him  questioning  at  the  end  of 
the  last  chapter.  Minor  criticism  of  socialism  I pass  over.** 
The  greatest  benefit  coming  from  it  is,  he  thinks,  the  stimulus 
it  gives — it  entertains  men  and  brings  to  the  lowest  strata  a 
species  of  practieo-philosophical  discussion ; so  far  it  is  a spring 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  §§  304,  310. 

““  Dawn  of  Day,  § 206. 

Joyful  Science,  § 24. 

" Dawn  of  Day,  § 174;  Werlce,  XI,  368,  § 557. 

““So  I interpret  the  second  of  the  eight  reflections  on  socialism  in 
Werlce,  XI,  142-4;  cf.  Human,  etc.,  § 235. 


SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  VIEWS 


141 


of  power  to  the  mind.^^  But  from  the  theory  itself  he  turns 
away,  and  while  admitting  a social  revolution  to  be  not  un- 
likely, he  thinks  that  its  result  will  be  less  than  is  expected, 
since  man  can  do  so  very  much  less  than  he  wills  (as  is  shown 
by  the  French  Revolution).®^  He  is  thus  really  at  home  no- 
where. While  the  old  aristocratic  order  is  dead,  the  new  com- 
mercial order  is  vulgar  and  tame,  nor  does  the  socialist  order 
which  may  be  coming  attract  him  either.  He  says  in  sub- 
stance, “We  [he  and  his  kind]  are  emigres,  observers  of  the  , 
time, — we  wish  only  to  become  free  of  it  and  understand  it,  like  ^ 
an  eagle  flying  over  it;  we  have  no  desire  to  be  citizens  or 
politicians  or  property-owners,  we  only  want  the  greatest  pos- 
sible independence ; we  will  be  deadly  enemies  of  those  of  our 
contemporaries  who  take  refuge  in  lying  and  wish  reaction ; 
our  interest  is  in  individuals  and  educating  them — perhaps 
humanity  will  some  day  have  need  of  them,  when  the  general 
intoxication  of  anarchy  is  past.”®® 

IV 

Yet,  ill-moored  as  he  is  to  the  present  time  and  standing 
for  nothing  actual,  he  has  certain  expectations — at  least,  there 
are  better  possibilities  for  the  future,  to  which  he  more  than 
once  recurs. 

As  for  politics,  he  would  like  to  see  it  ordered  so  that  mod- 
erate intellects  might  meet  its  demands,  and  we  should  not  all 
have  to  be  continually  concerned  with  it.  It  is  not  so  great 
a matter  as  we  sometimes  think.  We  [Germans]  rank  it  so 
high,  because  we  are  deficient  in  the  instincts  that  make  it  in 
the  normal  man  something  natural  and  matter-of-course — we 
need  incitement.®®  He  can  even  imagine  an  ultimate  disap- 
pearance of  the  state — as  the  old  unities  of  the  tribe  and  the 
family  have  disappeared.  Its  functions  might  be  taken  over  by 
private  individuals  and  associations.  He  admits  that  it  is  a 
different  thing  to  work  for  such  an  end : it  would  be  presumptu- 
ous and  show  little  knowledge  of  history  to  break,  up  old  soil, 

Werke,  XI,  144. 

Ihid.,  XI,  369,  § 559.  Cf.  the  allusion  to  the  socialist  “ rat- 
catchers ” and  the  “mad  hopes”  they  excite  (Dawn  of  Day,  § 206). 

Werke,  XI,  375,  § 570. 

<‘oibid.,  X,  § 482. 


142 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


till  new  seeds  are  at  hand,  and  he  hopes  that  the  state  will  last 
yet  a good  while,  and  that  destructive  attacks  on  it  by  hasty, 
half-educated  people  will  be  averted.'^^  The  reason  for  his  rela- 
tively low  estimate  of  it  is,  on  the  one  hand,  that  the  ends  it 
serves  (security  and  comfort)  are  lesser  ends  in  life,  and,  on 
the  other,  that  it  none  the  less  wishes  to  call  the  highest  talents 
to  its  aid.  Mind  ought  to  be  free  for  other  things.  “Our  age 
that  talks  so  much  of  economy  is  a spendthrift : it  wastes  what 
is  most  precious,  mind.”®^  It  is  the  business  people  particu- 
larly who  want  the  state,  and  it  is  they,  with  their  philosophy, 
who  are  ruling  the  world  now — artists,  scholars,  even  religion 
following  in  their  train.®^  * 

He  gives  much  attention  to  war — a state-phenomenon.  Pie 
knows  its  uses  in  the  past,  is  far  from  absolutely  condemning  it, 
admits  that  it  may  have  uses  in  the  future — there  is  one  apho- 
rism with  the  extravagant  title,  “War  Indispensable.”®^  It  is 
a remedy,  he  thinks,  for  peoples  growing  languid  and  miserable 
— a remedy,  that  is,  supposing  that  they  really  want  to  live — a 
sort  of  brutal  cure.®®  It  is  a return  to  barbarism,  but  also  to 
barbaric  strength,  a kind  of  hibernating  time  for  culture,  out 
of  which  one  issues  stronger  both  for  good  and  for  evil.®®  It 
may  also  be  a good  to  a commercialized  people,  too  fond  of 
security  and  ease.®^  On  the  other  hand,  a people  living  full  and 
strong  has  no  need  of  war.®®  Its  effect  is  to  make  the  victors 
stupid  and  the  vanquished  malicious.®®  The  military  system 
not  only  involves  enormous  expense,  but,  what  is  worse,  it  takes 
the  strongest,  most  capable  men  in  extraordinary  numbers  away 
from  their  proper  occupations,  to  make  them  soldiers.'^®  After 
drawing  a vivid  detailed  picture  of  the  various  inequities  and 
stupidities  in  military  life,  he  sets  down  the  modern  military 
system  as  an  anachronism,  a survival,  having  for  the  wheels  of 
present-day  society  only  the  value  of  a drag  or  brake  (i.e.,  in 

Tluman,  etc.,  § 472. 

Hid.,  §481;  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 232;  Dawn  of  Day,  §179. 

»•  Werke,  XI,  367-9. 

Tluman,  etc.,  § 477. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 187. 

Human,  etc.,  § 444;  cf.  463. 

Werlce,  XI,  369,  § 558. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 187. 

Human,  etc.,  § 444. 

lUd.,  § 481 ; cf.  § 442. 


SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  VIEWS 


14-3 


case  a nation  is  going  up  or  down  too  fast)  7^  He  even  suggests 
that  a strong  victorious  people  might  some  day  disarm.  “Per- 
haps a great  day  is  coming,  when  a people  distinguished  by 
wars  and  victories  and  the  highest  development  of  military 
organization  and  intelligence,  accustomed  too  to  bring  the 
heaviest  sacrifices  to  these  objects,  will  voluntarily  proclaim, 
‘We  break  the  sword’ — and  allow  its  whole  military  system 
down  to  the  last  foundations  to  fall  in  ruins.  To  disarm  whilst 
most  capable  of  arms,  from  an  elevation  of  sentiment — that  is 
the  way  to  real  peace,  which  must  always  rest  on  a disposition 
for  peace ; while  the  so-called  armed  peace,  such  as  we  find  in 
all  lands  now,  rests  on  warlikeness  of  disposition,  which  trusts 
neither  itself  nor  its  neighbor,  and  half  from  hate,  half  from 
fear,  refuses  to  lay  its  weapons  down.  Better  perish  than  hate 
and  fear,  and  tivice  better  perish  than  make  oneself  hated  and 
feared — this  must  some  day  be  the  supreme  maxim  of  every 
individual  political  society.” 

Yes,  Nietzsche  goes  still  further.  He  is  aware  that,  as  I 
have  said,  war  is  a state-phenomenon,  and  that  the  continued 
possibility  of  it  in  Europe  is  bound  up  with  the  system  of  sep- 
arate states  which  exist  there,^^  and  he  deliberately  sets  himself 
against  the  nationalist  spirit  (or  spirits),  which  has  grown  ever 
stronger  since  the  reaction  against  Napoleon,  and  calls  for  a 
federation  of  European  peoples,  a “united  Europe.”  It  is 
interesting  to  note  that  his  first  thought  of  such  a consumma- 
tion was  as  a result  of  the  democratizing  process  now  so  gen- 
erally going  on.  He  makes  a notable  forecast  along  this  line, 
which  I may  summarize  as  follows:  The  practical  outcome  of 
the  spreading  democratic  tendency  will  be  a European  federa- 
tion of  peoples.  Each  people  will  be  like  a canton  with  its  own 
separate  rights.  Boundaries  between  cantons  will  be  determined 
largely  by  geographical  considerations.  The  historical  mem- 
ories of  the  various  peoples  will  not  be  taken  greatly  into 
account,  for  the  innovating  and  experimental  spirit  of  democ- 
racy tends  to  uproot  sentiments  of  this  description ; while 
corrections  of  boundaries  that  may  be  necessary  will  be  carried 
out  so  as  to  serve  the  interests  of  the  large  cantons  and  of  the 
whole  federation,  they  will  not  be  in  deference  to  recollections 
The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 279.  Ihid.,  § 284.  Cf.  Human,  etc.,  § 615. 


144 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


of  any  hoary  past.  To  find  suitable  points  of  view  for  the 
corrections  will  be  the  task  of  future  diplomats,  who  will  need 
to  be  at  once  adepts  in  the  history  of  culture,  agriculturists, 
and  trade  experts,  and  they  will  have  not  armies,  but  reasons 
and  practical  utilities  to  back  them.^^  Some  breaks  with  the 
past  being  inevitable,  there  will  be  plaints  for  lost  national 
traits  (in  dress,  customs,  legal  conceptions,  dialects,  forms  of 
poetry),  but  we  must  not  lend  too  much  ear  to  them.  It  is  the 
price  that  has  to  be  paid  for  rising  to  the  super-national,  to 
universal  goals  of  mankind,  yes  to  a real  knowledge  and  com- 
prehension and  enjoyment  of  other  pasts  than  one’s  own  {des 
nicht  Einheimischen) — in  a word,  for  ceasing  to  be  barbarian.^® 
Crude  patriotism,  such  as  the  Romans  had,  is  now,  when  quite 
other  and  higher  tasks  than  patria  and  honor  await  us,  either  a 
dishonest  thing  or  else  a sign  of  arrested  development  {Zuriick- 
gebliehenheit) National  differences  are,  much  more  than  is 
commonly  realized,  differences  in  stages  of  culture,  not  anything 
permanent,  so  that  there  is  little  obligation  to  argue  from 
national  character  for  one  who  is  trying  to  recreate  convictions, 
i.e.,  to  elevate  culture.  If,  for  example,  one  thinks  of  all  that 
has  been  German,  the  theoretic  question.  What  is  German  ? gets 
at  once  the  corrected  shape,  “What  is  German  now?” — and 
every  good  German  will  answer  it  practically  just  by  over- 
coming some  of  his  German  qualities.  When  a people  goes 
forward  and  grows,  it  breaks  the  girdle  that  gave  it  hitherto 
its  national  appearance ; if  it  stays  as  it  was,  becomes  stunted, 
a new  girdle  fastens  itself  around  its  soul — the  ever  hardening 
crust  becomes  as  it  were  a prison,  whose  walls  ever  grow.  Has 
then  a people  very  much  that  is  fixed,  it  is  a proof  that  it  is 
ready  to  petrify  and  become  a monument — as  was  the  case  at 
a certain  point  of  time  with  ancient  Egypt.  “Hence  he  who 
wishes  well  to  the  Germans  will  for  his  part  see  to  it,  that  he 
ever  more  and  more  grows  out  beyond  what  is  German.  Turning 
to  the  un-German  has  ever  been  the  distinguishing  mark  of  the 
strong  {Tiichtigen)  among  us.”  Nietzsche  entitles  this  para- 
graph “ To  be  a good  German  means  to  un-Germanize  oneself.  ’ ’ 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 292. 

” Werke,  XI,  133-4,  § 423. 

Human,  etc.,  § 442. 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 323;  cf.  Werke,  XIII,  337,  § 836. 


SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  VIEWS 


145 


He  thinks  that  already  modern  tendencies — commerce  and  indus- 
try, the  interchange  of  books  and  letters,  the  common  features 
in  all  higher  culture,  the  easy  changing  of  abode — are  weaken- 
ing nations  and  tending  in  the  direction  of  a European  man.^’ 
Not  the  interest  of  the  many,  as  is  often  said,  but  above  all  the 
interests  of  certain  princely  dynasties,  and  then  of  certain 
commercial  and  social  classes,  push  in  the  nationalist  direction.™ 

Taking  this  larger  view,  Nietzsche  finds  the  Catholic  church 
suggestive,  i.e.,  the  catholicity  of  it,  particularly  when  it  was  a 
sovereign  and  super-national  power  in  the  Middle  Ages  and 
made  states  and  nations  look  petty  in  comparison ! The  church 
met  fictitious  needs,  it  is  true,  but  some  day  there  may  be 
equally  universal  institutes  to  meet  man’s  real  needs.™  He 
boldly  anticipates  “the  united  states  of  Europe,”  holding  that 
while  the  uniting  of  the  various  German  governments  in  one 
state- was  a “great  idea,”  this  is  a still  “greater  idea.”®"  He 
even  broaches  the  idea  of  an  international  ministry  of  educa- 
tion, which  should  consider  the  intellectual  welfare  of  the  entire 
human  race,  independently  of  national  interests.®^  Europe  has 
a lofty  dignity,  in  his  eyes:  its  task,  once  united,  will  be  to 
guide  and  watch  over  the  development  of  the  entire  earth.®^ 
In  this  connection  an  extraordinary  suggestion  is  thrown  out 
that  a medical  geography  of  the  globe  be  made,  so  that,  as  a 
physician  sends  his  patients  to  this  and  that  climate  or  par- 
ticular environment  for  the  cure  of  their  varying  ailments,  so 
ailing  peoples  and  families  may  be  gradually  taken  to  zones 
and  circumstances  favorable  to  them  till  their  infirmities  are 
overcome — the  whole  earth  becoming  thus  in  time  a set  of 
health-stations.^  One  may  skeptically  ask  who  is  to  be  the 
physician  for  so  great  a task,  and  to  this  Nietzsche  gives  no 
formal  answer,  but  may  be  presumed  to  have  in  mind  some 
such  organization  of  the  accumulated  science  and  wisdom  of 
mankind  as  a “united  Europe”  might  effect.  Continuing  these 
large  prospects,  he  speaks  of  an  “economy  of  the  earth,”  of 
letting  poorer  races  die  out  and  training  better  ones,  of  one 
language — in  general,  of  entirely  new  conditions  for  human 

Human,  etc.,  § 475.  Ibid.,  XI,  147-8,  § 460. 

Ibid.,  § 476.  ‘-The  'Wanderer  etc.,  §87. 

‘<‘Werke,  XI,  138,  § 439.  “Ibid.,  §188. 


146 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


development,  particularly  for  the  development  of  beings  of  a 
higher  type.®^  He  thinks  that  by  the  conquest  of  nature  more 
force  may  be  won  than  is  actually  needed,  and  then  something 
of  the  luxurious  might  come  among  men,  of  which  we  have 
no  idea  now;  great  projects  would  be  feasible  of  which  we  do 
not  dream.  “Aerial  navigation  alone  throws  all  our  old  cul- 
tural conceptions  aside”  [he  might  have  added,  “undersea 
navigation,”  had  he  lived  now].  Instead  of  our  usual  works 
of  art,  we  might  try  to  beautify  nature  on  a great  scale  by 
means  of  labor  extending  over  centuries — for  example,  bring 
to  perfection  suggestions  and  motives  of  beauty  in  the  Alps. 
We  might  have  an  architecture,  in  which  we  should  build  for 
eternity,  as  the  Romans  did.  We  might  utilize  the  backward 
peoples  of  Asia,  Africa,  and  elsewhere  as  laborers.*®  Cyelopic 
work  has  been  done  by  other  forces  in  the  past;  the  day  of 
science  is  to  come.*® 

For  progress  Nietzsche  finds  an  advantage  in  the  free- 
thinking  habits  of  mind  which  have  arisen  in  recent  times 
(though  he  distinguishes  free-thinking  from  what  is  popularly 
known  as  “free-thought”).  Prehistoric  ages  were  determined 
during  immeasurable  stretches  of  time  by  custom,  nothing  hap- 
pening; in  the  historic  period  the  matter  of  moment  has  always 
been  some  departure  from  custom,  some  disagreement  of 
opinion;  it  is  free  action  of  the  mind  (die  Freigeisterei)  that 
makes  history.*^  There  is  corresponding  significance  in  the  dis- 
solution of  old  religious  traditions  now  going  on.  We  are  ready 
to  experiment,  to  take  things  into  our  own  hands.  Our  courage 
rises  as  we  have  need  of  it,  and  if  we  fail  or  err,  we  believe 
that  it  is  our  own  affair — “God,”  as  one  to  whom  we  are 
accountable  for  mistakes,  and  “immortal  souls,”  with  which 
we  are  to  pay  penalties,  have  disappeared.**  And  yet,  Nietzsche 
urges,  we  should  be  at  our  work  betimes.  The  aim  he  proposes 
few  will  question  the  greatness  of — he  speaks  of  it  as  an 
“ecumenical”  one,  embracing  the  whole  inhabited  globe;**  he 

Werice,  XI,  139,  § 441. 

Ihid.,  XI,  376-7,  § 572. 

Joyful  ^Science,  §7. 

W'erlce,  XI,  138,  § 440. 

Cf.  Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 179;  Dawn  of  Day,  §501. 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 179.  Cf.  the  striking  paragraph  on  mankind 
as  a tree  which  is  to  overshadow  the  earth.  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 189. 


SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  VIEWS 


147 


reminds  us,  however,  that  while  time  is  long,  propitious  time  is 
not  necessarily  so.  We  cannot  assume  that  mankind  will  always 
be  able  to  go  on  in  the  higher  direction.  Things  do  not  improve 
by  instinct  or  any  divine  destiny.  There  may  be  movement 
down  as  well  as  up,  and  mankind  at  the  end  of  its  career  may 
be  on  a lower  level  than  it  is  now.  With  the  downfall  of  Roman 
culture  and  the  spread  of  Christianity,  man  became  increasingly 
unsightly  within  the  Empire;  and  human-kind  in  general,  as 
it  has  come  up  from  the  ape,  may  at  last  go  down  to  it.®®  The 
race  may  be  nearer  the  heights  possible  to  it  in  the  middle  of  its 
journey  than  at  the  close — the  end  of  a melody  is  not  its  goal, 
the  end  of  a man’s  life  (above  all  when  it  is  in  weakness)  is 
not  its  goal.®^  Therefore  let  us  compass  the  utmost  possible 
now — the  chance  may  not  come  again. 

Nietzsche  has  certain  anticipations  even  in  the  religious  field 
— if  religion  may  be  taken  broadly  to  cover  any  kind  of  a cultiis 
of  ideal  things.  “A  Vision”  is  the  title  of  one  aphorism,  which 
reads  as  follows;  “Lectures  and  hours  for  meditation  set  apart 
for  adults,  mature  and  maturest,  and  these  daily,  uncompulsory, 
but  visited  by  every  one  from  force  of  custom ; churches,  as 
the  places  worthiest  and  richest  in  memories,  to  be  used  for  this 
purpose ; almost  daily  festivals  in  honor  of  the  attained  or 
attainable  dignity  of  human  reason ; a new  and  fuller  blossom- 
ing of  the  ideal  of  the  teacher,  in  which  clergyman,  artist, 
physician,  scholar,  and  wise  man,  blend  in  one  . . . this  is  my 
vision,  which  ever  comes  back  to  me,  and  about  which  I firmly 
believe  that  it  has  lifted  a corner  of  the  future’s  veil.”®^  He 
expresses  the  desire  for  a new  style  of  architecture  which  shall 
more  worthily,  more  fittingly  express  the  serious  ideas  of  men 
today — still,  ample  spaces,  where  no  sound  of  traffic  is  heard 
and  a finer  decency  even  forbids  praying  aloud  to  the  priest, 
where  one  can  think  and  for  a few  moments  be  by  oneself.®® 
But  the  religious  suggestions  of  Nietzsche  I must  practically 
leave  out  of  account  in  the  present  volume.®* 

°°  Human,  etc.,  § 247. 

Ibid.,  § 234;  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 204;  Dawn  of  Day,  § 349. 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 180. 

Joyful  Science,  § 280. 

As  to  a “religion  of  the  future,”  see  Werke,  XI,  327,  § 439;  373, 
§ 569;  376,  § 571;  Dawn  of  Day,  §§  96,  164. 


THIRD  PERIOD 


CHAPTER  XIII 

GENERAL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  PERIOD,  AND  VIEW  OF 

THE  WORLD 

I 

In  the  spring  of  1879  Nietzsche  resigned  his  professorship  at 
Basel.  Already — some  three  years  earlier — he  had  been 
obliged  to  give  up  his  work  at  the  Padagogium  there.  There 
were  intervals  of  exuberant  animal  spirits,  but  as  a whole  his 
life  appears  to  have  been  one  of  suffering.  He  was  not  teaching 
to  his  satisfaction — he  confesses  this  in  his  letter  of  resigna- 
tion.^ Moreover,  the  thought  came  over  him  at  times  that  his 
strength,  supposing  that  he  could  turn  it  to  account,  lay  in 
writing  rather  than  in  teaching — in  any  case  that  he  was  coming 
to  have  views  of  his  own  and  that  he  ought  to  be  developing 
them.  Questions  of  this  sort  had  disturbed  his  academic  serenity 
before.  Twice — in  1874  and  even  as  early  as  1870 — he  had  been 
tempted  to  renounce  his  university  work;  his  free  time  was  too 
little,  and  he  could  not  say  his  best  “to  the  boys.”^  But  now 
a grave  illness  precipitated  matters,  and  he  definitively  put  an 
end  to  his  teaching  career.  The  University  granted  him  a pen- 
sion of  3,000  francs  a year,  and  with  this  and  a little  income 
of  his  own  (the  whole  amounting  to  around  $1,000.00)  he  began 
that  entirely  private  life  as  a thinker  which  ended  with  his 
apoplectic  stroke  ten  years  later.  The  intervening  years  were 
spent  mostly  in  the  south  of  Europe — as  stated  in  the  opening 
chapter.  It  was  a lonely  existence  for  the  most  part ; he  sorely 
missed  the  presence  and  sympathy  of  friends.  Indeed,  he  had 
already  lost  many  of  his  early  friends,  so  unusual  was  the 
course  his  thinking  had  taken.  He  found  refuge  with  books 

’ See  Werke  (pocket  ed.),  IV,  ix,  x. 

“See  Richter,  op.  cit.,  pp.  57-9;  Ziegler,  op.  cit.,  p.  79. 

148 


GENERAL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  PERIOD 


149 


and  with  solitary  nature — and,  I might  add,  with  people  in  the 
humbler  walks  of  life ; his  sister  remarks  that  in  Genoa  during 
the  winter  of  1880  and  1881  he  perhaps  first  came  to  know  the 
common  people,  finding  much  that  was  lovable  in  them,  and 
they  showing  a kind  of  affectionate  reverence  for  him.^  Some- 
thing in  his  manner  of  life  at  this  time  is  hinted  at  in  a private 
memorandum.  His  ideal,  he  says,  is  “an  independence  that 
does  not  offend  the  eye,  a softened  and  veiled  pride,  one  that 
equalizes  things  with  others  {sich  ahzahlt  an  die  Anderen)  by 
not  competing  for  their  honors  and  enjoyments,  and  not  mind- 
ing ridicule.  This  shall  ennoble  my  habits  of  life : to  be  never 
common  and  always  courteous,  not  to  be  covetous,  but  to  strive 
quietly  and  keep  in  the  upper  air ; to  be  frugal,  even  niggardly 
toward  myself,  but  unexacting  (milde)  toward  others.  Light 
sleep,  a free  quiet  step,  no  alcohol,  no  princes  or  other  nota- 
bilities, no  women  or  newspapers,  no  honors,  no  intercourse 
except  with  the  highest  spirits  and  now  and  then  with  the 
common  people — this  is  as  indispensable  as  the  sight  of  vigor- 
ous and  healthy  vegetation — foods  easiest  had,  which  do  not 
take  one  into  the  press  of  greedy  and  smacking  crowds, 
if  possible  self-prepared  foods,  or  those  not  needing  prepara- 
tion.” ^ ^ 

At  least  six  or  seven  of  these  years  belong  to  the  third 
period  of  Nietzsche’s  life — though  fixing  a date  for  its  beginning 
is  a more  or  less  arbitrary  thing.  Some  scholars  put  Dawn  of 
Day  (1881)  and  Joyful  Science  (1882)  into  it,  others  class 
these  works  with  those  of  the  second  period,  while  still  others — 
and  with  probably  the  greatest  show  of  reason — think  that  they 
mark  the  transition  from  one  period  to  the  other.  The  fact  is 
that  there  is  no  break,  no  catastrophic  change,  such  as  occurred 
in  1876.  All  we  can  truthfully  say  is  that  gradually  the  tone 
becomes  more  positive,  that,  while  criticism  continues  or  is  even 
sharper  than  ever,  constructive  thinking  appears  more  and  more, 
and  an  approach  to  a comprehensive  world-view. 

The  books  unquestionably  belonging  to  this  period  include 
the  two  which  are  the  best  known,  or  rather  most  quoted,  of  all 
of  Nietzsche’s  works.  Thus  spake  Zarathustra  (1883-5)  and 
Beyond  Good  and  Evil  (1885-6)  ; also  Towards  the  Genealogy 

’‘Werke  (pocket  ed.),  V,  xvi.  *Werke,  XI,  390,  §613. 


150 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


of  Morals^  (1887),  Twilight  of  the  Idols  (1888),  The  Anti- 
christian^ (1888),  “The  Case  of  Wagner”  and  “Nietzsche 
contra  Wagner”  (both  1888,  and  little  more  than  pamphlets). 
Besides  these,  are  the  autobiographical  notes  (not  originally 
meant  for  publication)  entitled  Ecce  Homo,  and  voluminous 
material  for  a contemplated  and  never  achieved  systematic 
work.  Will  to  Power — material  which  has  been  more  or  less 
successfully  put  together  by  later  hands  and  now  appears  under 
that  title  (second  and  much  improved  edition,  1906).  There 
are  also  three  posthumous  volumes  of  private  notes  and  unfin- 
ished sketches.^ 


II 

The  most  general  mark  of  the  period  is  confidence — one 
might  say,  joy : the  book  which  may  be  taken  as  a herald 
of  it  is  entitled  Joyful  Science  {Die  frdhliche  Wissenschaft)  ? 
Nietzsche  is  now  quite  emerging  from  the  gloom  and  depression 
that  had  ensued  on  the  overthrow  of  his  first  ideals.  He  had 
momentarily  lost  his  goal ; he  is  now  sure  of  one.  He  needed  a 
cure  from  his  early  romanticism,  he  had  had  too  much  sweet, 
too  rich  a diet;  but  he  has  got  it — and  is  well  again  (in  soul,  at 
least).®  Chastened,  disciplined,  he  feels  once  more  ready  for 
battle.  As  our  fathers,  he  says,  brought  sacrifices  of  wealth 

“ The  German  title  is  “ Zur  Oenealogie  der  Moral,”  the  “ Zur  ” indi- 
cating that  Nietzsche  pretends  to  nothing  more  than  contributions  to  the 
subject. 

® The  German  title,  “ Der  Antichrist,”  is  commonly  translated,  in 
questionable  fashion,  “ The  Antichrist.”  The  German  “ der  Christ  ” does 
not  usually  signify  “Christ,”  but  “the  Christian”  (“Christus”  is  the 
word  for  Christ),  and  ''der  Antichrist”  is  naturally  (if  not  necessarily) 
“The  Antichristian.”  In  translating  as  I do  I am  happy  to  find  myself 
following  the  best  French  authority  on  Nietzsche,  Henri  Lichtenberger, 
who  renders  “ L’Antichretien.”  The  late  R.  M.  Meyer,  perhaps  the  best 
all-round  authority  on  Nietzsche  in  Germany,  thought  that  while  Nietzsche 
played  with  the  double  meaning  of  the  word,  Lichtenberger’s  translation 
was  the  correct  one  (this  in  a private  letter  to  the  writer). 

’ These  are  Vols.  XII,  XIII,  XIV  of  the  German  octavo  edition.  A 
small  part  of  this  material  is  given  at  the  end  of  Vols.  VII  and  VIII  of 
the  German  pocket  edition;  in  the  English  translation  it  is  almost  entirely 
lacking,  as  is  also  the  greater  part  of  the  posthumous  Vols.  IX,  X,  and 
XI  of  the  German  octavo  edition,  covering  Nietzsche’s  first  and  second 
periods. 

* Cf.  Joyful  Science,  § 324,  beginning  “No!  Life  has  not  deceived 
me!  ” 

" Preface,  § I,  to  Joyful  Science.  Cf.  preface  (of  1886),  § 2,  to  Mixed 
Opinions  etc.,  where  this  book,  along  with  Human,  etc.,  and  The  Wan- 
derer etc.,  is  spoken  of  as  his  “anti-romantic  self-treatment.” 


GENERAL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  PERIOD 


151 


and  blood,  rank  and  country  to  Christianity,  so  will  we  sacrifice, 
not  for  our  doubts  or  unbelief,  but  for  our  faith.^® 

Nietzsche  once  said,  in  referring  to  Human,  All-too-Human, 
“It  is  necessary  to  take  up  this  whole  positivism  into  myself, 
and  none  the  less  be  a bearer  of  idealism.”  By  positivism 
he  means  positive  knowledge,  i.e.,  the  attitude  which  insists  on 
actual  facts,  as  distinguished  from  fancies  and  speculations. 
We  have  seen  something  of  his  passion  for  verity  in  the  previous 
period,  his  wish  to  face  facts,  however  bare,  comfortless,  or 
empty  of  higher  significance  they  might  be;  and  we  are  not 
to  imagine  that  he  ever  becomes  an  uncritical  idealist  again — 
he  has  no  lapses  such  as  are  common  among  those  who  become 
tired  of  doubt;  in  Dawn  of  Day,  with  his  face  setting  in  the 
new  direction,  he  speaks  of  “idealizing”  as  reprovingly  as  ever 
he  had  when  his  positivistic  attitude  was  at  its  height.^  And 
yet  this  attitude  takes  now  a secondary  place,  for  he  feels  that 
it  is  not  equal  to  the  whole  of  life.  Philosophy  is  to  his  mind 
something  more  than  science,  or  even  criticism  and  critical 
science,  counter  as  this  view  was  to  the  prevailing  opinion  in 
his  day.  He  advances  a variety  of  considerations  at  different 
times  and  in  different  connections — I state  them  here  in  my 
own  order.  In  the  first  place,  certain  knowledge  is  not  always 
to  be  had,  and  in  action  we  have  often  to  go  on  chances  and 
possibilities — indeed  there  is  a certain  weakness  in  always  want- 
ing to  know,  in  not  being  ready  for  risks.^^  Secondly,  facts  of 
themselves  are  miscellaneous,  scattering — it  is  really  a hric-d- 
irac  of  conceptions  that  so-called  positivism  is  bringing  to 
market  today;  they  need  to  be  interpreted,  related,  put  in 
order.^^  The  special  sciences  cannot  make  themselves  inde- 
pendent of  philosophy,  which  is  a general  view  from  a height 
above  them,  involving  an  “UeberMick,  Umblick,  Niederblick.”  ^ 
Philosophers  have  usually  been  against  their  time,  and  now 
there  is  a duty  incumbent  on  them  to  oppose  the  tendency  to 

Joyful  Science,  § 377. 

“I  rely  here  upon  Riehl  {op.  cit.,  p.  184),  who  cites  Werke,  XI,  499 
(presumably  the  first  edition,  which  is  not  accessible  to  me).  There  is 
something  similar  in  Werke,  XIV,  351,  § 211. 

“Cf.  §§  299,  427. 

Joyful  Science,  §§  347,  375. 

'^'Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 10. 

§§204-5. 


152 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


put  every  one  into  a corner  and  speciality.  “What  I wish  is 
that  the  genuine  concept  of  the  philosopher  shall  not  entirely 
perish  in  Germany.”^®'’  Nietzsche  even  goes  to  the  length  of 
questioning  whether  there  are  any  bare  facts  separable  from 
interpretation  of  some  kind,  whether  it  is  possible,  as  some  pro- 
pose, to  stand  by  the  facts  simply  and  not  go  beyond  them — he 
does  not  think  much  of  the  idea  of  putting  philosophy  “upon  a 
strictly  scientific  basis.” 

Moreover,  facts  have  to  be  valued  as  well  as  ascertained — 
and  it  appears  to  be  his  opinion  that  the  ultimate  canon  for 
interpreting,  relating,  and  ordering  is  derived  from  the  valuing 
process.  The  valuing  attitude  is  sharply  contrasted  with  the 
“scientific”  one.  It  is  not  a mere  mirroring  of  the  facts,  and 
Nietzsche  draws  a satirical  picture  of  the  “objective”  man  who 
mirrors  everything  and  is  nothing — presqiie  rien}^  It  involves 
choosing,  preferring,  judging  of  facts — that  is,  a standard  which 
is  independent  of  them  and  is  projected  by  the  mind.  Zara- 
thustra  accordingly  is  represented  as  having  left  the  house  of 
scholars  who  only  want  to  observe;  the  present  age  seems  to 
him  one  of  polyglot  knowledge,  not  one  of  belief  and  creative 
capacity.’^  This  prostrating  oneself  before  facts,  without  stand- 
ards by  which  to  judge  of  them,  has  become  a sort  of  cultus — 
Nietzsche  admits  that  Taine  is  an  example  of  it.“  The  only 
explanation  of  it  is  that  men  have  been  long  happy  in  the  unreal 
and  are  now  surfeited  with  it.^^  Positivism  is  a rebound  against 
Romanticism,  the  work  of  undeceived  romanticists.^^  But  to 
love  the  real,  irrespective  of  its  quality  and  character,  is  to  be 
tasteless.  Zarathustra  does  not  like  those  to  whom  each  and 
every  thing  is  good  and  this  world  the  best  world — he  honors 
rather  refractory,  fastidious  tongues  and  stomachs  that  have 
learned  to  say  “I,”  and  “Yes”  and  “No.”^  The  trouble  with 

’“/fttVZ.,  §212;  Will  to  Power,  §420. 

Will  to  Power,  § 477;  Genealogy  etc.,  Ill,  §24. 

'"Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 207. 

Thus  spake  Zarathustra,  II,  xvi,  xiv. 

Will  to  Power,  § 422.  I say  “ admits,”  because  Taine  was  one  of 
the  first  to  give  Nietzsche  recognition,  and  Nietzsche  did  not  forget  it. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 244. 

“ Werke,  XIV,  .341,  § 194. 

•'‘Zarathustra,  III,  xi,  § 2 (I  am  reminded  of  an  inscription  I saw 
on  the  lintel  of  a liouse  in  the  Via  del  Campo,  Genoa,  Non  omnia  sed 
hona  et  bene ) . 


GENERAL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  PERIOD 


15S 


our  science  today  is  its  ideallessness,  its  lack  of  a great  love.^ 
For  it  is  man’s  task  to  set  himself  an  end,  and  thereby  a standard 
of  value — above  all  is  this  the  task  of  man  at  his  highest,  of  the 
philosopher.  The  sciences  are  preliminary  and  preparatory  to 
this  supreme  functioning — the  solving  the  problem  of  value, 
the  determining  the  order  of  precedence  in  values.^  Genuine 
philosophers  say,  “So  should  things  be” — they  are  com- 
manders and  legislators;  they  determine  the  Whither?  and 
For  what?  of  man,  laying  creative  hands  on  the  future,  and 
turning  all  that  is  or  was  into  means  and  instrument.  Nietzsche 
puts  it  boldly,  “Their  ‘knowing’  is  creating,  their  creating  is  a 
legislating,  their  will  to  truth  is — will  to  power.” That  is 
(stating  the  matter  in  my  own  language),  we  human  beings  can 
observe,  but  we  can  also  strive  for  that  which  is  past  all  observ- 
ing, since  it  is  the  projection  of  our  minds  and  imagination, 
and  belongs  as  yet  among  the  viewless  and,  strictly  speaking, 
non-existent  things  of  the  world.  We  can  look  at  existence, 
whether  ourselves  or  reality  outside  us,  as  so  much  matter, 
on  which  we  are  to  impress  a higher  form.  Science  at  its  best 
is  necessarily  fragmentary — and  equally  so  is  history;  if  we 
limit  ourselves  to  their  report  of  things,  we  leave  out  the  whole 
area  of  possibility.  To  quote  Nietzsche’s  own  words:  “Man  is 
something  fluid  and  plastic — we  can  make  out  of  him  what  we 
will.”^^  Again,  “In  man  is  creature  and  creator  in  one:  there 
is  matter,  fragment,  superfluity,  clay,  excrement,  unreason, 
chaos — but  also  creator,  former,  the  hardness  of  the  hammer, 
the  contemplativeness  of  a God,  and  the  glory  of  the  seventh 
day. ”28  Instead  of  Schopenhauer’s  doctrine  of  redemption 
from  existence,  Zarathustra  (Nietzsche)  gives  us  a doctrine  of 
the  re-creation  of  existence.  Every  fragmentary  “it  was”  is  to 
be  changed  into  a “so  I would  have  it”:  ^ the  doctrine  rests  on 
a belief  in  the  changeability  of  the  world  and  in  the  power  of 
men  to  make  change. 

Accordingly  we  feel — not  always,  but  as  a rule — an  atmos- 

Genealogy  etc.,  Ill,  § 23. 

Note  at  end  of  Genealogy  etc.,  I. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 211. 

” Werke,  XII,  362,  § 690. 

““  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 225. 

^"Zarathustra,  II,  xx;  III,  xii,  §3. 


154 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


phere  of  great  faith  in  this  last  period.  We  know  our  powers, 
he  says,  not  our  power — we  should  regard  ourselves  as  a vari- 
able quantity  whose  capacity  of  performance  might  be  of  the 
highest  under  favorable  circumstances.^®  “Raphael  without 
hands,”  i.e.,  genius  without  the  happy  conditions  that  lend  it 
power  to  execute, — may  it  not  be  the  rule  rather  than  the 
exception?  The  world — particularly  the  human  world — is  a 
bottomless  rich  sea.  Things  which  have  been  long  weak  and 
embryonic  may  at  last  come  to  light;  unconscious  possibilities 
in  fathers  may  stand  revealed  in  their  children  or  children’s 
children — we  all  have  hidden  gardens  and  plantations  within 
us,  or,  to  use  another  metaphor,  are  volcanoes  which  may  some 
day  have  an  hour  of  eruption ; even  in  the  souls  of  Germans, 
“these  poor  bears,’'  lurk  “hidden  nymphs  and  wood-gods”  and 
“still  higher  divinities.”®®  Nietzsche  is  as  far  as  ever  from  de- 
riving our  higher  powers  or  qualities  (after  the  manner  of  Kant 
or  Schopenhauer)  from  a metaphysical  source;  but  they  are  real 
all  the  same — he  once  speaks  of  the  hero  who  is  hidden  in  every 
man,  and  he  can  imagine  transgressors  giving  themselves  up  to 
justice.®^  Though  our  unrealized  possibilities  are  a chaos  rather 
than  a cosmos,  a kind  of  milky  way  or  labyrinth,®®  his  faith  is 
plainly  that  order,  suns  and  stars,  may  come  out  of  them.  If 
man  is  sicklier  and  more  uncertain  than  any  other  animal,  it 
is  just  because  he  makes  so  many  changes — because  of  the  unde- 
fined range  of  his  possibilities.  He  the  great  experimenter  with 
himself,  the  unsatisfied,  who  enters  the  lists  for  the  last 
supremacy  with  animals,  nature,  and  Gods;  he  the  still  uncon- 
quered, the  eternally  expectant,  whose  own  inner  force  urges 
him  on  and  gives  him  no  rest — how  could  he  not  be  liable  to 
maladies  such  as  nothing  else  in  nature  knows?®®  We  know 
what  is  or  was,  not  what  may  be  or  might  have  been.  Nietzsche 
touches  on  Plato’s  reforming  thoughts  and  attempts  to  carry 
them  into  effect  in  Sicily — he  thinks  it  conceivable  that  he 
should  have  succeeded,  even  as  the  legislation  of  Mohammed 
went  into  effect  among  his  Arabs,  and  the  still  stranger 
thoughts  of  Christianity  prevailed  in  another  quarter:  a few 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 326.  lUd.,  §78;  Dawn  of  Day,  § 322. 

Zarathustra,  IV,  i.  Joyful  Science,  § 322. 

Joyful  Science,  § 9.  Genealogy  etc..  Ill,  § 13. 

“ Ihid.,  § 105. 


GENERAL  CHARACTER  OF  THE  PERIOD 


155 


accidents  less  and  a few  accidents  more,  and  there  might  have 
been  a Platonizing  of  Southern  Europe — though  as  things 
turned  out,  Plato  has  come  to  be  known  as  a fantast  and  utopian 
(harder  names  perhaps  having  been  used  in  ancient  Athens) 

Naturally  along  with  the  larger  outlook  is  a fresh  apprecia- 
tion of  poetry.  He  thinks  that  poets  might  do  more  than  paint 
an  Arcady,  nor  should  it  be  necessary  for  them  to  employ  their 
imagination  in  falsifying  reality ; it  is  their  high  mission  to 
open  to  us  the  realm  of  the  possible.  Starting  with  suggestions 
from  the  course  of  evolution  in  the  past,  they  might  with  bold 
fantasy  anticipate  what  will  or  may  be — picture  virtues  such 
as  have  never  been  on  earth,  and  higher  races  of  men.  “All 
our  poetry  is  so  restricted,  earthly  {klembiirgerlich-erden- 
haft).”  He  waits  for  seers  who  will  tell  us  of  the  possible, 
astronomers  of  the  ideal  who  will  reveal  to  us  purple-glowing 
constellations  and  whole  milky  ways  of  the  beautiful.  First 
after  the  death  of  religion  [in  the  old  sense]  can  invention  in 
the  realm  of  the  Divine  again  luxuriate — and  perhaps  just, 
because  we  can  no  longer  flee  to  God,  the  sea  within  ourselves! 
may  rise  higher.^®  He  knows  the  charm,  too,  of  poets  who  but 
imperfeetly  express  the  vision  of  their  souls,  who  give  us  fore- 
tastes of  the  vision  rather  than  the  vision  itself : it  is  the  charm 

of  suggestiveness — a very  different  charm  and  a much  whole- 
somer  one  than  that  upon  which  George  Eliot  dilates  in  “A 
Minor  Prophet,”  where  imperfection  becomes  almost  dear  for 
its  own  sake. 

To  sum  up : if  science,  knowledge  of  the  actual  whatever 
becomes  of  ideals,  may  be  taken  as  the  characteristic  note  of 
the  second  period,  science  and  the  ideal  are  the  note  of  the  third. 
Close  observation  of  reality  and  an  unblanched  face  before  it 
continue,  but  there  is  a fresh  sense  that  the  actual  is  only  a part 
of  the  totality  of  things.  Science  is  simply  a negative  test — W6 
must  not  have  ideals  which  are  inconsistent  with  it.^“  Accord-^ 
ingly  Nietzsche  is  happy  again — but  with  an  ennobled,  purified 


Dawn  of  Day,  § 496. 

Ibid.,  §551;  Werke,  XI,  328,  § 440;  Joyful  Science,  § 285  (cf. 
Zarathustra,  IV,  xiii,  § 2 ) . 

Joyful  Science,  §79. 

This  is  the  general  standpoint,  though  he  says  that  science  “ has 
nothing  against  a new  ideal”  (Werke,  XI,  376,  §571). 


156 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


happiness,  Frau  Andreas-Salome  thinks  that  the  land  of  his 
future  expectations  was  not  really  a new  one,  but  the  old  one 
from  which  he  originally  set  out — and  in  a deep  sense  this  is 
true;  but  she  admits  that  the  products  of  the  new  period  were 
more  or  less  shaped  by  the  experiences  of  the  intervening  years. 
“Certain  great  perspectives  of  the  spiritual  and  moral  horizon 
are  my  strongest  springs  of  life,”  he  wrote  her,  after  referring 
to  the  fearful  existence  of  renunciation  he  had  been  obliged  to 
lead.  “I  also  have  morning-dawns  . . . what  I no  longer  be- 
lieved , . . appears  now  possible — as  the  golden  morning  dawn 
on  the  horizon  of  all  my  future  life.  ’ ’ 

III 

Though  the  general  outlines  of  the  world  are  much  the  same 
to  Nietzsche  as  in  the  preceding  period,  conceptions  of  possi- 
bility and  change  and  man’s  power  play,  as  just  intimated,  an 
ever  larger  part.  One  might  almost  say  that  he  becomes  optimist. 
He  had  earlier  said,  “Away  with  the  wearisomely  hackneyed 
terms,  optimism  and  pessimism ! ” He  maintained  that  they  stood 
for  theological  contentions,  and  that  no  one  eared  any  longer  for 
the  theologians — except  the  theologians  themselves.  Good  and 
had  have  only  human  references — the  world  itself  is  neither 
good  nor  bad  (not  to  say  best  and  worst),  and  we  should  stop 
both  glorifying  it  and  reviling  it  in  this  way.*^  But  favorable 
or  unfavorable  judgments  of  the  world  may  be  based  on  other 
grounds,  and  he  inclines  more  and  more  to  a favorable  judg- 
ment. The  world  comes  to  seem  good  to  him  just  as  it  is, 
without  any  intrinsic  order,  or  inherent  purpose,  or  moral  gov- 
ernance— good,  that  is,  as  a place  one  is  willing  and  glad  to  live 
in.^^  Indeed,  he  approximates  to  religious  feeling  about  it — at 
least  he  uses  religious  language.  His  mouthpiece,  Zarathustra, 
says,  “To  blaspheme  against  the  earth  is  now  the  most  dreadful 
thing.  Even  change  and  accident  are  regarded  with  a semi- 
religious veneration.  All  becoming  is  to  Zarathustra  a “dance 
of  Gods,”  a “wantonness  of  Gods.”^  The  earth  is  likened  to 

**  Lou  Andreas-Salomg,  op.  cit.,  pp.  136-8. 

*’  Human,  etc.,  § 28. 

*’ See  the  condemnation  of  pessimism  in  Dawn  of  Day,  §§  329,  561; 
Joyful  Science,  §§  134,  357;  Will  to  Power,  §701. 

“ Zarathustra,  prologue,  § 3. 

•'  Ibid.,  Ill,  xii,  § 2. 


VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD 


157 


a dice-table — one  which  Gods  have  spread  out,  and  on  which 
they  play  with  men;  it  trembles  from  the  throws  they  make 
and  their  creative  new  words.^®  We  hear  of  the  “heaven  of 
accident”  standing  over  all  things — and  to  teach  that  accident 
has  so  high  and  ruling  a place  in  the  world  is  not  to  revile,  but 
to  bless.^^  In  The  Antichristian,  after  saying  that  indignation 
at  the  general  aspect  of  things  is,  along  with  pessimism,  the 
privilege  of  the  Tschandala  [the  lowest  class  of  men  , Nietzsche 
uses  this  remarkable  language:  “The  world  is  perfect — so  speaks 
the  instinct  of  the  most  spiritual  men,  the  affirmative  instinct — 
imperfection,  what  lies  beneath  us  of  every  kind,  distance,  the 
pathos  of  distance,  the  Tschandala  himself  belongs  to  this  per- 
fection. ’ ’ 

This  does  not  mean  that  Nietzsche  has  altered  in  the  slightest 
his  estimate  of  things  from  a moral  standpoint — that  he  is  not 
still  pessimist,  as  most  would  understand  that  term.  “We  are 
seethed,”  he  says,  “in  the  view,  and  have  become  cold  and  hard 
in  it,  that  things  do  not  go  on  at  all  divinely  in  the  world,  or 
even  according  to  human  measure  rationally,  mercifully,  or 
justly;  we  know  it,  the  world  in  which  we  live,  is  undivine, 
unmoral,  ‘unhuman’  ” — that  it  is  not  valuable  in  the  way  we 
have  believed  is  the  surest  result  we  have.®®  Injury,  violence, 
stealing,  killing  inhere  in  all  life.®^  He  honors  Schopenhauer 
(in  contrast  with  men  like  Schiller,  W.  von  Humboldt, 
Schleiermacher,  Hegel,  and  Schelling)  for  seeing  the  world  as 
it  is,  and  the  deviltry  of  it.®^  He  feels  himself  an  heir  of  the 
veracity  and  old-fashioned  piety  of  Luther,  who  recognized  that 
reason  could  not  of  itself  make  out  a just  and  merciful  govern- 
ment of  the  world,  and  of  Kant,  who  saw  that  morality  could 
not  be  based  on  nature  and  history,  since  immorality  ruled 
there ; ®®  ^ both,  that  is,  had  to  put  the  Divine  outside  the  world 
(a  logic  which  our  new  “immanent”  theologians  might  well 
ponder  over).  But,  he  in  effect  argues,  because  we  are  pes- 

'■*  Ibid.,  Ill,  xvi,  § 3. 

Ibid.,  Ill,  iv. 

For  a more  exact  meaning  of  the  Hindu  term,  see  later,  p.  453. 

The  Antichristian,  §57;  cf.  Zarathustra,  IV,  x;  Will  to  Power, 
§§  1031,  1033. 

^“Joyful  Science,  § 346. 

^^Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  §10;  Genealogy  etc.,  II,  §11. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 190. 

Preface,  §§  3,  4,  to  Dawn  of  Day. 


158 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


simists  in  this  sense,  because  the  world  has  not  the  particular 
value  commonly  ascribed  to  it,  it  does  not  follow  that  it  is  less 
valuable — it  may  be  more  so.  For  what  are  the  standards  of 
value  which  are  commonly  set  up?  what  is  it  that  is  deified? 
Goodness,  justice,  love.  But  what  are  goodness,  justice,  love 
but  qualities  by  the  help  of  which  men  get  along  together  in 
societies,  necessary  rules  for  their  association  in  flocks?  What 
are  we  doing  then  but  taking  certain  utilities  of  flock-life  and 
making  a God  of  them,  an  absolute  standard  by  which  the  world 
is  judged,  so  that  it  is  good  if  it  conforms  to  them  and  bad  if 
it  does  not.^  It  seems  a presumptuous  thing  to  Nietzsche,  an 
extravagant  aberration  of  human  vanity  and  unreason — indeed 
he  finds  something  laughable  in  man’s  proposing  to  invent 
values  that  are  to  exceed  the  value  of  the  actual  world.®® 

How  the  world  is  still  valuable  in  his  eyes  after  the  downfall 
of  moralistic  faith,  we  have  already  seen  in  part  and  shall  see 
more  clearly  later  on.  I may  only  say  in  general  now  that  it  is 
the  possible  outcome  of  existence,  which  justifies  existence  to  his 
mind — the  type  or  types  of  life  that  may  emerge.  It  is  not 
that  pleasure  may  preponderate  over  pain — to  considerations  of 
pleasure  and  pain  he  gives  a quite  secondary  place.  Every 
sound  individual,  he  thinks,  refuses  to  judge  life  by  these 
incidents.  Pain  might  preponderate,  and  there  be  none  the 
less  a mighty  will  to  life,  a saying  yes  to  it,  a feeling  even  of 
the  necessity  of  this  preponderance.®®  A measure  of  the  will’s 
power  is  its  capacity  to  endure  opposition,  pain,  and  torture, 
and  to  turn  them  to  advantage.  With  this  in  mind,  he  says, 
“I  do  not  reckon  the  evil  and  painful  character  of  existence 
an  objection  to  it,  but  hope  that  it  will  sometime  be  more  evil 
and  more  painful  than  heretofore.”®^  He  despises  the  “pes- 
simism of  sensibility”  and  calls  it  “a  sign  of  deep  impoverish- 
ment of  life”;  ®®  more  than  once  he  quotes  Voltaire’s  lines. 


He  thus  departs  widely  from  Spencerian  and  all  hedonistic 
measurements  of  the  worth  of  life.  When  we  come  into  the 


“ Un  monstre  gai  vaut  mieux 
Qu’un  sentimental  ennuyeux.”  ” 


'*  Will  to  Power,  § 32. 
Joyful  Science,  § 346. 
Will  to  Power,  § 35. 


Ibid.,  § 382. 

Ibid.,  §§  701,  707. 
Ibid.,  §§  35,  91. 


VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD 


159 


region  and  atmosphere  of  his  thoughts,  it  is  like  passing  into 
a new  zone  and  climate.  If  we  still  call  his  view  pessimism, 
we  must  admit  that  it  is,  to  use  his  own  phrase,  “Dionysiac 
pessimism,”  one  that  affirms  life  despite  or  even  because  of 
suffering  and  change  and  death,  and  so  practically  as  good  as 
optimism — one  might  say  better  than  the  soft  sweet  thing  which 
often  goes  by  that  name.  He  speaks  of  Dionysiac  pessimism 
as  his  proprium  and  ipsissimum.^^  ^ If  nature,  in  her  ceaseless 
flow  of  change  and  accident,  gives  a chance  for  greatness,  it  is 
to  him  enough.®^ 

IV 

Some  details  in  his  picture  of  the  world  may  now  be  given, 
though  they  are  not  absolutely  new.  (1)  Let  us  guard,  he  says, 
against  conceiving  of  the  world  as  a living  or  organic  thing. 
Toward  what  should  it  develope  ? From  what  should  it  be  nour- 
ished ? How  could  it  grow  and  increase  ? Living  organic  things 
are  simply  phenomena  in  it — and  late  and  rare  phenomena. 
(2)  Nor  should  we  regard  it  as  a machine — a machine  is  some- 
thing constructed  for  an  end,  and  the  world  has  no  marks  of 
being  constructed  in  this  way;  we  really  do  it  too  much  honor 
in  speaking  of  it  as  a machine.  (3)  We  should  guard  against 
assuming  that  the  regular  cyclic  movements  of  our  and  neighbor- 
ing planets  are  everywhere — there  may  be  much  ruder  and  more 
contradictory  movements,  our  astral  order  being  an  exception, 
and  chaos  marking  the  world  as  a whole  (chaos  in  the  sense  of 
an  absence,  not  of  necessity,  but  of  order,  organization,  form, 
beauty) . (4)  There  is  no  occasion  for  blaming  or  praising  the 

world.  We  should  avoid  ascribing  to  it  heartlessness  and 
unreason  or  the  opposite.  It  is  neither  perfect  nor  beautiful, 
nor  noble,  and  has  no  wish  to  be — it  does  not  at  all  strive  to 
imitate  man  and  none  of  our  aesthetic  or  moral  judgments  hit 
it.  It  has  not  even  an  impulse  of  self-preservation,  or  impulses 
of  any  kind.  (5)  It  also  knows  no  laws.  Let  us  be  on  our 
guard  against  saying  that  there  are  laws  in  nature — there  are 
only  necessities:  there  is  no  one  who  commands,  no  one  who 
obeys,  no  one  who  transgresses.  Moreover,  since  there  are  no 
ends  in  nature,  there  is  strictly  speaking  no  accident ; only  in 

^'‘Joyful  Science,  § 370.  Cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 191. 


160 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


a world  of  ends  has  the  word  “accident”  a meaning.  (6)  Let 
us  be  on  our  guard  against  making  death  the  antithesis  of  life — 
the  living  is  only  a species  of  the  dead,  and  a rare  species,  (7) 
Let  us  be  on  our  guard  against  thinking  that  the  world  eternally 
creates  new  things  (it  is  really  a finite  quantity,  and  sooner 
or  later  reaches  the  limits  of  its  power)  Moreover,  it  is  im- 
portant to  stop  speaking  of  the  All  as  if  it  were  a unity,  a force, 
an  absolute  of  some  kind — we  easily  come  in  this  way  to  take 
it  as  a highest  instance  and  to  christen  it  “God.”  We  must 
split  up  the  All,  unlearn  any  particular  respect  for  it,  bring 
back  feelings  we  have  given  to  the  unknown  and  the  whole,  and 
devote  them  to  things  next  us,  our  own  things.  The  All  raises 
ever  the  old  problems,  “How  is  evil  possible?”  and  so  on.  To 
speak  bluntly,  there  is  no  All,  the  great  sensorium  or  inven- 
torium  or  storehouse  of  power  is  lacking.®^  Nietzsche  is  thus 
altogether  a pluralist.  Such  unities  as  we  find  are,  to  him, 
derived  and  created  things,  and  lie  in  a larger  sea  of  the  chaotic. 
This  is  true  not  only  of  the  world  at  large,  but  of  an  individual 
soul.  Those  thinkers  in  whom  all  the  stars  move  in  cyclic 
paths  are  not  the  deepest;  he  who  looks  into  the  vast  space 
within  himself  and  is  aware  of  the  milky  ways  there,  knows 
also  how  irregular  all  milky  ways  are — they  lead  into  the  chaos 
and  labyrinth  of  existence.®^  Nietzsche  is  accordingly  distrust- 
ful of  systematizers,  and  he  conjectures  their  descent  from 
registrars  and  office-secretaries,  whose  business  it  was  to  label 
things  and  put  them  in  their  pigeonholes.®®  “He  is  a thinker: 
that  means  that  he  understands  how  to  take  things  more  simply 
than  they  are.”®®  Particularly  now,  when  science  is  just  be- 
ginning its  work,  does  system-building  seem  to  him  childish- 
ness. “I  am  not  narrow  enough  for  a system — and  not  even 
for  my  system.”  ^ * 

But  though  Nietzsche  regards  the  world  as  a more  or  less 
chaotic,  irregular  thing,®®  he  avoids,  as  already  stated,  thinking 

‘‘‘Joyful  Science,  § 109;  cf.  Werke,  XII,  58-9. 

Will  to  Power,  § 331. 

'*  Joyful  Science,  § 322. 

“Dawn  of  Day,  §318;  Joyful  Science,  § 348;  cf.  Twilig'ht  of  the 
Idols,  I,  §26;  and  what  his  sister  says,  Werke  (pocket  ed.),  IX,  xviii. 

“Joyful  Science,  § 189. 

“Werke,  XIV,  413,  § 292;  354,  §217. 

'*  Cf.  Joyful  Science,  §§  277,  322;  Werke  (pocket  ed.),  VII,  xviii 
(chaos  sive  natura) ; Will  to  Power,  § 711. 


VIEW  OF  THE  WORLD 


161 


of  it  as  infinite,  whether  in  extent  or  power — such  a view  seems 
to  him  an  unwarranted  extravagance.  Though  immense  and 
practically  immeasurable,  it  is  none  the  less  a definite  quantity, 
something  capable  neither  of  increase  nor  of  diminution,  sur- 
rounded by  nothing,  for  there  is  nothing  outside  of  it,  terms 
of  this  sort  being  applicable  only  to  relations  within  it  and 
empty  space  being  but  a name.®^  In  no  way  does  he  more 
radically  depart  from  modern,  romantic,  Christian  notions  and 
return  to  old  Greek  habits  of  thought,  than  in  this  view  of  a 
finite  rather  than  infinite  world.  As  Zarathustra  sees  it  in  a 
dream,  the  world  is  something  measurable,  weighable,  corn- 
passable,  divinable — not,  indeed,  simple  enough  to  put  men’s 
minds  to  sleep,  and  yet  not  enigmatic  enough  to  scare  away 
human  love,  a kind  of  humanly  good  thing,  like  a perfect  apple, 
or  a broad-boughed  tree,  or  a treasure-box  open  for  the  delight 
of  modest  revering  eyes.™  It  is,  indeed,  of  such  measured  scope 
that  the  things  which  once  happened  in  it  are  likely,  or  even 
bound  in  the  course  of  time,  to  happen  again — there  cannot 
be  ever  new  things.  Sometime  the  possibilities  of  change  will 
be  exhausted,  and  then  the  new  things  will  be  old  things  over 
again.  This  becomes  a special  doctrine  which  we  shall  consider 
in  the  next  chapter.  Suffice  it  now  to  say  that  by  this  recur- 
rence, and,  supposing  that  time  goes  on  forever,  ever  renewed 
recurrence  of  the  past,  a semblance  of  succession  or  order  arises 
in  the  world,  despite  its  chance  nature — or  rather  just  because  of 
this,  for  the  recurrence  is  entirely  a matter  of  accident  and 
necessity,  not  the  result  of  any  design  or  ordering  will. 

Nietzsche’s  attitude  to  chaos  and  accident  is  a double  one. 
Because  of  what  may  come  out  of  it,  and  partly  because  it 
represents  the  actual  conditions  of  existence  which  a brave  man 
will  accept  anyway,  he  speaks  at  times  of  “beautiful  chaos,” 
“dear  accident.”  In  this  mood  amor  fati  is  his  motto.  He 
writes  on  the  opening  of  a new  year,  “I  will  ever  more  learn 
to  recognize  the  necessary  in  things  as  the  beautiful, — so  shall 
I be  one  of  those  who  make  things  beautiful : let  this  be  from 
now  on  my  love!”^^  Zarathustra  calls  (by  a play  on  words 

TTerfce,  XII,  52,  §§91-2;  Will  to  Power,  § 1067. 

Zarathustra,  III,  x,  § 1. 

'^Joyful  Science,  §§  276-7. 


162 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


whicli  it  is  impossible  to  give  the  effect  of  in  English)  “von 
Ohngefdhr,”  literally  “by  chance,”  the  oldest  nobility  in  the 
world,  and  says  that  the  heaven  above  him  is  so  pure  and  high, 
just  because  there  is  no  spider  or  spider-web  of  reason  there, 
because  it  is  a dancing-ground  for  divine  accidents,  a divine 
table  for  divine  dice  and  dice-players.'^^  And  yet  we  are  not 
to  infer  that  Nietzsche  reveres  chance  or  accident  fox  itself, 
and  sometimes  we  find  him  describing  it  as  a giant  to  be 
fought.”  So  far  as  man  is  concerned,  it  is  at  best  an  oppor- 
tunity, a situation  from  which  something  may  be  wrested.  He 
speaks  of  compelling  accidents  to  dance  in  measure  like  the 
stars.”  He  instances  the  way  in  which  a master  of  musical 
improvising  will,  if  he  strikes  an  accidental  note,  turn  it  to 
account — fitting  it  into  the  thematic  framework  and  giving  it 
a beautiful  meaning  and  soul.”  He  represents  Zarathustra  as 
superior  to  chance:  the  prophet  uses  it,  boils  it  in  his  pot — 
indeed,  only  in  this  way  does  it  become  his  eatable  meat.”® 
Nietzsche  is  perfectly  aware  that  those  who  do  not  know  how 
to  use  chance,  may  find  in  it  their  undoing. 

” Zarathustra,  III,  iv.  Joyful  Science,  § 303. 

'’Ibid.,  I,  xxii,  §2.  "‘Zarathustra,  III,  v,  §3. 

Ibid.,  Ill,  xvi,  § 3. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


THE  IDEA  OF  ETERNAL  RECURRENCE 


I 

Allusion  was  made  in  the  preceding  chapter  to  the  idea  of 
recurrence  as  a part  of  Nietzsche’s  general  view  of  the  world; 
I shall  now  treat  it  with  some  particularity^  It  is  sometimes 
regarded  as  fanciful  or  mystical.  Professor  Ziegler  calls  it  “a 
phantastic  hypothesis.”^  Professor  Riehl  relegates  it  to  the 
childhood  of  science — it  cannot  be  proved  or  even  made  proba- 
ble.^ A distinguished  German  physician  and  psychiatrist  even 
thinks  that  when  a conceit,  which  might  have  been  pardonable 
in  the  times  of  Pythagoras,  unhinges  a man  who  has  read  Kant, 
something  is  the  matter  with  him.^  Professor  Pringle-Pattison 
can  only  say,  “So  long  as  it  remained  a real  possibility 
which  might  be  established  on  scientific  grounds,  it  haunted  him 
like  a nightmare ; so  soon  as  it  receded  into  the  realm  of  specu- 
lative fantasy,  he  began  hymns  to  eternity  as  to  a bride,  and 
to  the  marriage  ring  of  recurrence”® — that  is,  he  was  attracted 
to  it  in  inverse  proportion  to  its  scientific  character.  Even  Dr. 
Dolson  speaks  of  this  “half-mystic  doctrine.”®  It  must  be  ad- 
mitted that  Nietzsche  is  himself  partly  responsible  for  views  of 
this  sort.  He  once  speaks  of  the  idea  as  if  it  had  come  to  him 
suddenly — the  day  and  place  are  specified.^  There  is  a descrip- 
tion of  it  that  is  weird  and  uncanny — the  details  are  almost 
like  those  of  a nightmare.®  And  yet  if  we  look  into  Nietzsche’s 

'The  relevant  passages  are  Werhe,  XII,  51-69  (or,  pocket  ed.  VI, 
3-21),  369-71;  Joyful  Science,  §341;  Zarathustra,  III,  ii,  §2;  xiii;  xvi; 
IV,  xix;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §56;  Will  to  Power,  §§55,  417,  617, 
1053-67.  The  reference  to  the  allied  Pythagorean  speculation  is  in  “ The 
Use  and  Harm  of  History,  etc.,”  sect.  2. 

' Op.  cit.,  p.  133. 

® Op.  cit.,  pp.  137-8. 

* P.  J.  Mobius,  op.  cit.,  p.  103. 

' Op.  cit.,  p.  291. 

° Grace  N.  Dolson,  The  Philosophy  of  Friedrich  Flietzsche,  p.  83. 

' Ecco  Homo,  III,  vi,  § 1. 

‘‘Joyful  Science,  §341. 


163 


164 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


general  psychological  world,  we  see  that  the  idea  arose  with 
something  like  logical  necessity,  that  it  has  broad  theoretic 
grounds. 

First,  we  must  remember  that  to  Nietzsche  the  world  was  a 
finite  quantity  (as  explained  in  the  last  chapter).  Undulations 
in  the  amount  of  existence,  now  more  and  now  less,  were  to  him 
unthinkable.  He  believed  that  the  modern  doctrine  of  the  con- 
servation of  energy  pointed  that  way.  Fixed  or  definite,  and 
infinite  were  contradictory  terms.  A refusal  to  speak  of 
infinite  force  he  regarded  as  one  of  the  marks  of  scientific,  in 
contrast  with  the  old  religious  habits  of  thought.®  Second,  he 
refused  to  admit  the  idea  of  empty  space  around  the  world. 
The  notion  of  infinite  space  was  gratuitous ; he  thought  it  based 
on  the  conception  of  empty  space,  which  is  an  abstraction  and 
unreal,  all  space  being  full  of  force  of  some  kind.  Space  itself, 
as  a separate  category  from  matter  or  force,  was  an  unreality, 
a subjective  form.^“  But  on  the  other  hand  (thirdly),  he  had 
come  by  this  time  to  believe  in  the  reality  of  time ; there  was 
a before  and  after  irrespective  of  our  thought  or  experience  of 
it — and  to  this  before  and  after  no  limits  could  be  set,  it  was 
infinite.^^  ® We  have  then  so  far  a finite  sum  of  force  working 
in  infinite  time.  And  now,  following  ordinary  ideas  of  causality, 
he  argues  that  there  can  have  been  no  beginning  to  the  activity 
of  the  force  (this  a fourth  point),  that  change  of  some  kind 
must  have  been  forever  going  on.  But,  the  question  may  be 
asked.  Granting  all  this,  may  not  the  activity  at  some  time  come 
to  an  end?  May  not  an  equilibrium  be  finally  reached — a state 
in  which,  activity  having  played  its  part,  becoming  passes  into 
being,  a changeless  goal  of  all  preceding  change?  Nietzsche 
does  not  deny  that  this  is  conceivable,  but  he  argues  that  if  it 
were  really  possible,  the  goal  wmuld  have  been  already  reached, 
since  time  extends  infinitely  backwards  as  well  as  forwards  and 
in  absolutely  unlimited  time  everything  that  could  have  hap- 
pened must  have  happened.  The  simple  fact  then  that  an 
equilibrium  does  mot  exist  now  (for  once  reached,  it  would  last 
forever),  proves  that  there  never  was  an  equilibrium,  and  never 

MFerfre,  XTI,  52-3;  Will  to  Power,  §§  10G3,  1066. 

TT’er/oe,  XII,  54,  §§97-8;  Will  to  Power,  § 1067. 

'^Werlce,  XII,  51,  §90;  54,  §98. 


THE  IDEA  OF  ETERNAL  RECURRENCE 


165 


could  be — that  the  world  is  eternally  in  process  of  change.  The 
mechanical  view,  as  sometimes  expounded,  leads  one  to  antici- 
pate a final  state  in  which  heat  and  all  forms  of  energy  are 
evenly  dispersed  through  space,  so  that  transformations  become 
thereafter  impossible  (save  by  a miracle  of  some  kind)  ; but 
Nietzsche  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  if  the  mechanical  theory 
cannot  escape  the  consequences  of  a final  stationary  state,  such 
as  Sir  William  Thomson  describes,  the  theory  is  ipso  facto  dis- 
proved. If  any  such  state  were  really  possible,  it  would  have 
been  attained  in  the  limitless  stretches  of  past  time,  and  we  (if 
there  were  any  sense  in  speaking  of  “we”  in  such  a connection, 
being  ourselves  changeable  beings)  should  be  in  it.^'’ 

Fifthly,  so  far  as  the  special  cosmic  order  now  existing  is 
concerned,  Nietzsche  thinks,  agreeably  to  current  views,  that  it 
had  a beginning  sometime  in  the  past.  There  was  some  rela- 
tively simple  state  of  forces,  from  which  the  present  more  or 
less  organized  world  has  gradually  evolved.  Moreover,  all  the 
processes  of  this  evolution,  even  the  minutest  details  of  it,  hang 
together — so  much  so,  that  if  any  least  thing  were  different 
from  what  it  is,  all  other  things  would  have  to  be  different  too, 
and  if  we  approve  any  one  thing  we  have  to  approve  everything 
else,  each  being  bound  up  with  the  others,  whether  as  condition 
or  consequence.  And  as  this  cosmic  order  began,  so  it  will  in 
the  course  of  time  end,  the  forces  relapsing  into  some  such 
unorganized  state  as  they  had  at  the  start.'^  This  view  of  a 
relative  beginning  and  end  of  things  is  a common  one,  and  it 
is  at  least  not  uncommon  to  think  that  after  one  ending  there 
will  in  time  be  another  beginning — so  that,  if  we  go  far  enough 
along  this  line,  we  gain  the  idea  of  a succession  of  worlds  or 
cosmic  orders. 

So  far  as  there  is  any  novelty  in  Nietzsche’s  speculation,  it 
is  from  this  point  on.  It  by  no  means  follows,  he  thinks,  that 
because  these  worlds  follow  one  another  they  will  be  like  one 
another,  save  under  certain  extremely  general  aspects.  They 
may  differ  widely.  Mechanical  laws  as  we  know  them  may  not 
be  strictly  necessary,  and  so  it  may  be  with  chemical  afiSnity 

'^See  Werke,  XII,  53,  §95;  55-6,  §§  100,  103;  62,  §114;  Will  to 
Power,  §§  1062,  1066. 

“ Werfce,  XII,  54,  §97;  Will  to  Power,  § 1032. 


166 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


and  cohesion — they  may  be  simply  temporary  habits  of  things, 
holding  while  the  present  cosmic  order  lasts,  and  perhaps  not 
universally  or  permanently  even  here.  All  depends  on  the 
initial  state  of  things,  the  way  forces  happen  to  have  been  col- 
located there.  With  one  combination  or  constellation  of  forces 
one  kind  of  world  will  result,  and  with  another,  another. 
There  may  be  as  many  different  kinds  of  worlds  as  there  can 
be  different  arrangements  and  collocations  of  the  primitive 
forces.  To  our  world  may  then  succeed  a totally  different  kind 
of  world,  just  as  one  totally  different  may  have  preceded  it. 
There  is  no  ordering  of  these  things,  no  controlling  design  regu- 
lating them — it  is  all  chance  and  accident.^^  But — and  here  is 
the  real  turning-point  of  Nietzsche’s  thought — in  the  course  of 
time,  supposing  that  it  goes  on  indefinitely,  the  different  possible 
combinations  of  forces  will  have  all  been  made.  If  the  total 
amount  of  force,  however  vast  and  practicably  incalculable,  is 
definite,  fixed,  the  number  of  combinations  which  its  con- 
stituent parts  can  make  is  not  limitless;  the  number  may  be 
myriad,  but  it  cannot  be  infinite.  If  then  the  limit  is  reached, 
there  can  thereafter  only  be  repetitions  of  the  combinations 
that  have  already  occurred — new  ones  are  impossible  (sixth 
point) 

I may  offer  a very  simple — seemingly  too  simple — illustration 
on  my  own  account.  Suppose  that  we — the  reader  and  I — are 
playing  dice.  We  throw  various  numbers,  various  combinations 
of  numbers.  There  is  no  regularity  in  the  succession — it  is  all 
haphazard  (if  we  play  a fair  game  and  let  chance  be  chance 
absolutely).  Some  time  may  elapse  before  either  of  us  reaches 
any  special  combination,  say  double  sixes.  And  yet,  sooner  or 
later  we  do  reach  it,  both  of  us  do — not  because  we  will  it,  but 
because  chance  itself  in  the  course  of  time  is  bound  to  give  it  to 
us.  If  we  play  on  and  on  and  do  not  reach  it,  we  inevitably 
suspect  that  something  is  the  matter  with  the  dice,  i.e.,  that 
they  have  been  loaded,  that  pure  chance  does  not  rule.  So  of 
each  and  every  combination — we  are  bound  to  throw  them  all, 
if  we  take  sufficient  time,  and  there  has  been  no  tampering  with 
the  dice.  But  after  we  have  thrown  all  the  combinations,  what 

^*Werke,  XII,  58-60;  Will  to  Power,  § 1066. 

Werke,  XII,  51,  § 90;  61,  § 109;  Will  to  Power,  § 1066. 


THE  IDEA  OF  ETERNAL  RECURRENCE 


167 


else  is  there  for  us  to  do,  if  we  go  on  playing,  but  to  throw 
the  old  ones  over  again?  The  recurrence  of  the  old  ones  is  of 
strict  necessity — it  is  chance  and  necessity  in  one.  The  order 
of  the  throws  may  be  different,  is  likely  to  be  different — but 
the  repetitions  themselves  are  unavoidable.  Nor  if  there  were 
numbers  running  into  the  thousands,  or  millions,  or  tens  of 
millions,  would  it  make  any  difference;  if  we  played  long 
enough,  all  possible  combinations  would  in  time  be  exhausted, 
and  then,  if  we  continued  to  play,  the  old  combinations  would 
be  repeated.  Moreover,  if  we  or  others  had  been  playing  before, 
there  would  have  been,  however  great  the  number  of  combina- 
tions, the  same  exhaustion  of  them  in  course  of  time,  and  there- 
after a repetition  of  previous  ones.  Repetition,  repetition  without 
end,  is  the  law  in  conditions  like  these.  Grant  the  suppositions, 
finite  numbers,  infinite  time,  and  pure  chance  (i.e.,  no  inter- 
ference from  an  arbitrary  will  outside,  whether  in  forming  the 
dice  to  start  with  or  in  influencing  our  muscles  in  throwing), 
and  the  result  is  inevitable. 

The  illustration  is  ridiculously  simple — but  I think  it  covers 
the  nerve  of  Nietzsche’s  argument.  Assuming  his  preliminary 
data,  the  same  initial  combination  of  the  forces  of  existence 
would  recur  again  and  again,  and  each  time  there  would  ensue 
from  that  combination^  according  to  ordinary  laws  of  cause  and 
effect  the  same  identical  cosmic  evolution,  with  exactly  the  same 
result  at  any  given  instant  of  the  process.  Indeed,  Nietzsche 
argues  that  only  in  this  way  is  there  such  a thing  as  strict  iden- 
tity. In  our  existing  world,  no  two  things  can  be  exactly  alike, 
if  only  because  they  are  differently  located  in  space  and 
outside  forces  impinge  differently  upon  them,  and  no  one  thing 
can  be  identical  with  itself  at  different  times  for  similar  reasons. 
Whenever  then  in  the  distant  ranges  of  the  future,  after  our 
present  world  has  relapsed  into  the  simple  and  relatively 
chaotic  state  from  which  it  once  emerged,  the  fortuitous  course 
of  things  shall  again  bring  about  a combination  of  forces  like 
that  of  which  our  world  is  the  result,  a world  precisely  similar 
to  ours  will  again  develope  and  the  whole  secular  process  of 
evolution  be  repeated : at  a certain  point  everything  will  be  like 
what  it  is  now,  the  stars,  the  sea,  the  land,  the  peoples,  the 
philosophies,  the  arguments,  you  and  I,  down  to  the  last  detail 


168 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


of  our  existence.^®  Grant  chance  (i.e.,  the  absence  of  any  set 
will  controlling  things),  grant  a finite  sum  of  forces  which 
never  began  and  never  will  cease  to  act,  grant  infinite  time, 
grant  the  negation  of  infinite  empty  space  in  which  forces  might 
be  dissipated,  grant  the  determinist  view  of  the  connection  of 
events,  and  the  result  is  apparently  unescapable.'^  It  also  follows 
that  to  such  a recurrence  of  the  world,  another  recurrence  will 
be  added  later  on,  and  to  that,  still  another, — and  so  on  ad 
infinitum.  With  equal  necessity  it  follows  that  earlier  editions 
of  the  world  have  existed — in  this  direction  too,  ad  infinitum. 

As  stated,  there  may  be  many  kinds  of  worlds,  and  varying 
orders  of  succession  between  them.  When  our  world  passes 
away,  it  does  not  follow  that  at  once  or  at  any  definite  time  it 
will  be  recomposed.  Nietzsche  especially  warns  us  against  the 
analogies  of  recurring  planetary  courses,  or  the  ebb  and  flow  of 
the  sea,  or  day  and  night,  or  the  seasons — all  of  which  succeed 
one  another  regularly.^^  The  point  is  not  when  or  in  what  order 
recurrence  takes  place,  but  that  it  takes  place.  In  one  place  he 
says  that  between  each  combination  and  its  recurrence,  all  other 
possible  combinations  will  have  had  their  turn ; this  might  be 
so,  but  it  does  not  appear  to  be  necessary — the  repetition  of  the 
combination  might  come  soon ; the  only  certainty  is  that  it  will 
come  sometime,  even  if  the  whole  gamut  of  combinations  has 
to  be  swept.  But  though  no  regular  order  of  succession  can  be 
predicated,  existence  comes  in  general  to  have  a cyclic  or  circular 
character  in  this  way.  The  same  things  are  ever  and  anon 
recurring.  Things  do  not  simply  cease  to  be  as  we  commonly 
imagine — in  time  they  come  back  to  themselves.  The  flow  of 
existence  is  not  straight  on — it  bends  and  returns  on  itself. 
Hence  Nietzsche’s  simile  of  the  ring.  “ Krumm — bent,  curved — 
is  the  path  of  eternity,”  says  Zarathustra.'®  No  geometer  makes 
the  ring;  it  is  nowise  inconsistent  with  the  “chaos”  of  things; 
it  is  a simple  “irrational  necessity,  apart  from  any  kind  of 
formal,  ethical,  or  aesthetic  considerations.”^  For  all  that,  it 
is  necessary,  eternal,  involved  in  the  very  nature  of  things,  an 

’®Cf.  the  picture  in  Joyful  Science,  §341. 

” WerJce,  XII,  61,  § 109. 

Will  to  Potcer,  § 1066. 

Zorathustra,  III,  xiii,  § 2. 

Werke,  XII,  61.  § 110. 


THE  IDEA  OF  ETERNAL  RECURRENCE 


169 


eternal  law  of  things.  The  course  of  the  stars,  the  succession 
of  seasons,  day  and  night,  may  arise  and  pass  away — the  ring 
never.  What  is  will  come  again — a breath  of  eternity  touches 
things,  all  things;  no  thing  so  slight  or  so  insignificant  or  so 
fleeting,  but  is  in  a sense  eternalized.  “Everything  goes,  every- 
thing returns,  eternally  does  the  wheel  of  being  roll ; everything 
dies,  everything  blossoms  again,  eternally  does  the  year  of  being 
run  its  course;  everything  breaks,  everything  is  put  together 
again,  eternally  does  the  house  of  being  build  itself  anew;  all 
things  separate,  all  things  greet  one  another  again,  eternally  is 
the  ring  of  being  true.”^^ 


II 

The  reader  may  detect  a note  of  joy  in  the  quotation  just 
made,  but  if  so,  I am  anticipating,  for  the  first  effect  of  the 
view  was  depressing.  There  are  plain  intimations  of  Nietz- 
sche’s struggle  with  it  in  his  writings,  and  we  have  also  the 
testimony  of  one  who  for  a while  was  in  close  contact  with  him — 
Fraulein  von  Salome,  now  Frau  Professor  Andreas-Salome  of 
Gottingen.  The  idea  was  no  more  welcome  at  the  start  than 
some  others  to  which  his  thinking  had  conducted  him.  He 
communicated  it  to  few,  dreading  a possible  confirmation  of 
it.^  Those  Avho  think  that  a man  believes  what  he  wishes  to 
believe,  should  observe  this  case.  He  says,  for  instance,  “If  a 
demon  should  slip  into  your  loneliest  solitude  some  day  or 
night  and  should  say  to  you:  This  life,  as  you  are  now  living 
and  have  lived  it,  you  will  have  to  live  once  more  and  innumera- 
ble times,  and  nothing  new  will  arise  in  it  . . . should  you  not 
fling  yourself  down  and  gnash  your  teeth,  and  curse  the  demon 
that  so  spoke He  makes  Zarathustra  say,  “Ah,  man  comes 
back  again,  ever  comes  back ! the  small  man  ever  comes  back ! 
All  too  small  even  the  greatest — and  unceasing  return  even  of 
the  smallest ! Ah,  horror,  horror,  horror ! ” ^ The  idea  is  like 
a serpent,  which  crawls  into  a shepherd’s  throat  unawares  as 
he  lies  on  the  ground  and  threatens  to  choke  him.^®  The  first- 

Zarathustra,  III,  xiii,  § 2. 

“ See  Lou  Andreas-Salom6,  op.  cit.,  p.  222;  Drews,  op.  cit.,  p.  325. 

Joyful  Science,  §341. 

Zarathustra,  III,  xiii,  § 2. 

Ibid.,  Ill,  ii,  § 2. 


170 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


quoted  passage  continues,  “every  pain  and  every  pleasure,  and 
every  thought  and  sigh,  and  everything  unspeakably  small  and 
great  in  your  life  must  come  back  to  you,  and  in  the  same  order 
and  succession — and  even  so  this  spider  and  this  moonlight 
between  the  trees,  even  so  this  moment  and  I myself.  The 
eternal  hour-glass  of  existence  is  ever  again  turned,  and  you 
with  it — dust  of  dust.”  It  is  an  almost  “spectral”  impression 
we  get  (to  use  Professor  Riehl’s  adjective),^  and  the  undertone 
of  feeling  is  manifest.  If  this  is  to  be  called  immortality,  it  is 
immortality  of  a new  kind,  as  Riehl  observes,^^  for  it  is  only  this 
present  life,  petty  and  pitiable  as  it  may  be,  over  again.  It  is 
possible  to  despair  at  such  a prospect.  We  know  that  a future 
life  has  sometimes  been  dreaded  rather  than  welcomed — for 
example,  among  the  Buddhists;  and  this  would  seem  to  be 
another  instance.  Mr.  Henry  L.  Mencken  pronounces  Nietz- 
sche’s idea  “the  most  hopeless  idea,  perhaps,  ever  formulated 
by  man.” 

And  yet  Nietzsche  learned  how  to  right  himself  in  this  as 
in  other  emergencies.  Amor  fati!  If  something  had  to  be,  it 
could  be  endured — and  must  be  made  endurable.  And  much, 
he  saw,  depends  upon  the  nature  and  character  of  our  lifeT  If 
the-recrnTence~ of  ifTs  a forbidding  thought,  is  it  not  because 
our "lif0.a~s  failed~to  satisfy  us.  ha,s  ~5ei^  unworthy^  nr  fnll^ of 
pfmtT-rrr  at  best  (ioimrronplgce^^^io^at  we  want  no  mor^  of  it  ? 

-BnT  it  It  has  beena  happy  life,  or  at  least  if  there  h^e  been 
supreme  moments  of  happiness  in  it,  if  we  have  known  for 
however  brief  a time  some  great  measureless  satisfaction  of 
our  whole  being,  the  situation  changes.  While  sulfering  we  do 
not  wish  again  (at  least  for  its  own  sake),  not  so  with  joy. 
Nietzsche  puts  the  thought  in  poetic  form — it  is  Zarathustra’s 
song: 

“ 0 man  ! mark  well ! 

What  saith  deep  midnight  with  its  knell? 

‘ I’ve  slept  my  sleep — 

And  wakened  from  the  dream’s  deep  spell: 

The  world  is  deep 

And  deeper  than  the  day  can  tell. 

Cf.  another  description  no  less  spectral  in  Zarathustra,  III,  ii,  § 2. 

Op.  cit.,  pp.  1.36-7. 

The  Philosophy  of  Friedrich  'Nietzsche  (2d  ed.),  p.  260. 


THE  IDEA  OF  ETERNAL  RECURRENCE 


171 


Deep  is  its  woe — 

But  joy’s  more  deep  than  misery; 

Woe  saith : “ 0,  go ! ” 

But  all  joy  seeks  eternity — 

Seeks  the  deep,  deep  eternity.’  ” ^ 

That  in  this  human  life  of  ours  j'^Y  and  that  it 

may  transcend  woe,  is  Nietzsche’s  faith.  But  it  i^a  joy  which 
he  conceives  ait^his  own  fashion.  The  rootof  hirmisery^lay 
in"aT~sense  of  the  lank  nt  the  gre^at.  the  JDivme  in  the  worM. 

It  was  the  commonplaceness,  the  smallness,  the  meaninglessness 
ol  liie  that  preyed  on  turn.  In  the  decay  o£~ancieiWxeii^ 
heaven  and  helFare  no  longer  felt  as  supreme  issues  among  us; 
and  aims  of  comfort,  pleasure,  and  success,  such  as  most  men 
lose  themselves  in,  could  not  satisfy  him.  But  the  question  arose, 
granting  that  the  great  and  Divine  do  not  exist,  whether  now 
or  by  any  necessity  in  the  future,  might  they  not  exist — might 
they  not  be  created  ? Might  not  life  then  get  a meaning  even  if 
of  itself  it  had  none — with  a sublime  possibility  like  this  before 
it?  Even  to  turn  one’s  thought  that  way,  even  only  to 
expect  the  outcome; — tinjugh  the  consummati^  itseliwaS^ 
faF” away,  could  give  joyl  JSuch  at  least  was  Ins  exp'm- 

ence,  aBdr'"'Wrfh  this  thought  aE?i  joy — he — eould confront 

a recurrence  of  his  life,  dreaded  as  it  might  otherwise  be. 
The  day  and  hour  when  all  this  stood  luminously  before  him 
became  memorable — even  the  particular  spot  he  was  in,  near 
a boulder  in  the  woods  of  the  Upper  Engadine,  “6000  ft. 
above  the  sea,  and  far  higher  above  all  human  things”;^® 
it  was  an  “immortal”  moment,  as  he  afterward  noted 
down.®^  ® 

In  other  words,  the  thought  of  recurrence  gives  rise  to  a 
practical  ethical  problem.  The  task  being  to  “endure  our  im- 
mortality,” the  problem  is,  how  to  live  so  that  we  shall  “wish 
to  live  again.”  “When  thou  incorporatest  the  thought  of 
thoughts  within  thee,  it  will  transform  thee.  The  question  in 
connection  with  all  thou  doest,  ‘is  it  something  that  I wish  to 

Zarathustra,  III,  xv,  §3;  IV,  xir,  §12  (the  translation  is  by 
Thomas  Common ) . 

Werke,  XII,  425;  cf.  Ecce  Homo,  III,  vi,  § 1. 

Werke,  XII,  371,  § 731;  Ecce  Homo,  III,  vi,  § 1. 


172 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


do  innumerable  times?’  is  the  greatest  determinant.”^^  “Not 
to  look  for  distant,  unknown  bliss  and  blessing  and  mercy,  but 
so  to  live  that  we  shall  wish  to  live  again  and  to  live  in  the 
same  way  eternally ! — our  task  comes  to  us  in  every  instant.  ’ ’ 
The  sort  of  life  which  made  Nietzsche  wish  to  live  again  we 
have  just  seen.  Life  was  welcome,  would  be  ad  infinitum,  when 
lit  up  with  a thought  like  that  described — when  a vision  of  the 
Divine  opened  out  to  it.  “God,”  in  the  permissible  sense  of 
that  term,  was  just  the  maximal  epoch  or  state  of  the  develop- 
mental process,  and  the  general  course  of  existence  was  a making 
and  unmaking  of  the  Divine.^  He  particularly  notes,  in  speak- 
ing of  propagating  the  idea  of  “recurrence,”  that  the  outlook 
on  the  superman  and  the  ethical  legislation  which  naturally 
accompanies  it,  must  come  first — and  then  the  doctrine  of  recur- 
rence, “now  endurable!”^® 

This  thought  of  a possible  sublime  result  compensated  for 
all  that  was  untoward,  pitiful,  or  commonplace  in  life — ^yes, 
compensated  for  its  recurrence  also.  For  such  is  the  connection 
and  reciprocal  dependence  of  things,  that  the  great  and  the 
little,  the  good  and  the  bad,  must  go  together — as  now,  so  in 
the  future.  If  one  moment  of  a man’s  life  returns,  the  others 
must  too.  If  we  wish  a single  experience  over  again,  we  must 
wish  all  the  rest.^^  “It  is  absolutely  not  the  first  question 
whether  but  rather  whethePwe 

are  content  with  anything.  For  if  we  eonsent  to  .a  single  mo- 
ment, w~haw Th'ert!l)y"'cbnsm  only  to  ourselves^^  but  to 

all  existence.”  For  nothing  stands' by  itself,  ~w^ 
selv^'"or3~'the  wb  at'largeT'aM  if  only' once  our_sgul  has 
trembledlike  a harn  with  happiness,  all  eternities  were  needed 
as  a cohdiBon  of  this  one  happening — and  all  eternity  was  in 
tbrn'kingie  mmeilt_-Qf--cmr---GonsentIap^^^ 

tified,  and  affirmed.  ’ ’ From  this  point  of  view  Zarathustra 

stretches  out  His  ha^s,  so  to  speak,  in  blessing  on  all  existence. 
“Pain  is  also  a joy,  curse  is  also  a blessing,  night  is  also  a sun. 
. . . Say  also  to  woe : go,  but  come  again  ...  joy  wills  the 

Werke,  XII,  369,  § 721;  64-5,  §§  116,  117. 

= = Ibid.,  XII,  67,  § 125. 

'*  Will  to  Poioer,  §§  639,  712;  cf.  Werke,  XI,  309,  § 396. 

^‘Werke,  XIV,  265,  §21;  cf.  Werke  (pocket  ed.),  VII,  487. 

Werke,  XII,  370,  §§  724-5. 

Will  to  Power,  § 1032. 


THE  IDEA  OF  ETERNAL  RECURRENCE 


173 


eternity  of  all  things.”^  It  is  a kind  of  theodicy.  Nietzsche 
thinks  that  the  doctrine  of  recurrence  redeems  us  from  a sense 
of  the  transitoriness  of  life : “ I teach  you  redemption  from  the 
eternal  flux.  ” “ Let  us  impress  the  image  of  eternity  on  our 

life,  ’ ’ he  says ; and  he  quotes  Dante ’s  line, 

“Come  Vuom  s’eterna  . . .”  (Inf.  XV,  85).“ 

But  the  eternalization  which  comes  to  man  comes  Anally  to  all 
things.  Affirm  as  he  might  against  Schopenhauer  the  reality  of 
time  and  change,  he  felt  the  poignant  elements  in  those  con- 
ceptions, the  tears  in  perishing  things,  and  once  gives  a moving 
expression  of  his  mood.  “That  Emperor  [referring  doubtless 
to  Marcus  Aurelius]  kept  continually  before  his  mind  the  per- 
ishability of  all  things,  so  that  he  might  not  attach  too  much 
importance  to  them  and  be  able  to  remain  at  rest.  On  me  this 
perishability  has  a quite  different  effect — to  me  everything 
appears  of  too  much  value  to  be  so  fleeting : it  is  as  if  the  most 
precious  wines  and  ointments  were  poured  into  the  sea.”^  In 
repeating  the  paragraph  later,  he  adds,  “My  consolation  is,  that 
everything  that  was,  is  eternal: — the  sea  washes  it  up  again. 
The  theodicy,  if  I may  so  speak  of  it,  covers  the  whole  world, 
and  the  eternal  repetition  of  it.  Yes,  in  the  eternal  repetition 
of  things  he  finds  an  approximation  to  the  old  idea  of  being, 
which,  as  opposed  to  change,  he  had  felt  obliged  to  renounce. 
“That  everything  comes  again  is  the  nearest  approach  of  a 
world  of  becoming  to  a world  of  being — summit  of  the  view.  ’ ’ ^ 
If  time  and  numerical  difference  are  left  out  of  account,  the 
world  in  its  totality — the  different  successions  of  the  same  world 
and  also  the  successions  of  different  worlds — is  the  same  identical 
changeless  thing. 


I have  already  referred  to  the  contrast  between  Nietzsche’s 
view  and  the  ordinary  idea  of  immortality.  The  latter  presup- 
poses a different  life  from  this  one — happier,  better.  It  implies 


in 


Zarathustra,  IV,  xix,  §§  10,  11. 
Werke,  XII,  369,  § 723. 

^Uhid.,  XII,  66,  § 124. 

Will  to  Power,  § 1002. 


Werke,  XII,  162,  § 327. 
Will  to  Power,  § 1065. 
**IUd.,  §617. 


174- 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


too  the  idea  that  the  soul  is  something  distinct  and  separate 
from  the  body.  But  Nietzsche  has  a physiological,  if  not  ma- 
terialistic view  of  man — “souls  are  as  mortal  as  bodies,”  he  says, 
and  may  even  perish  “ quicker. His  “other  life”  is  this 
life  over  again — a course  of  evolution  exactly  like  that  which 
has  produced  this  life  producing  it  a second  time.  The  very 
solemnity  of  Nietzsche’s  ethical  injunctions  rests  on  this  thought 
of  identity.  Make  this  life  over,  he  in  effect  says,  for  as  you 
make  it,  it  will  be  eternally.  And  he  thinks  that  after  all  there 
are  deep  instincts  binding  us  to  this  life.  He  describes  an 
experience  which  cannot  be  altogether  strange  to  any  of  us. 
“You  feel  that  you  must  take  farewell — perhaps  soon — and  the 
sunset  colors  of  this  feeling  strike  in  upon  your  happiness. 
Note  this  witness:  it  signifies  that  you  love  life  and  yourself, 
and  indeed  life  as  you  have  hitherto  found  it  and  been  shaped 
by  it — and  that  you  long  for  an  eternalizing  of  the  same.  Non 
alia  sed  Jiaec  vita,  sempiterna.”  Hence  the  fortifying  influ- 
ence which  he  accredits  to  his  doctrine — for  change  and  death 
“are  ever  singing  their  brief  song,  and  with  the  hearing  of  the 
first  strophe  we  almost  perish  of  longing  at  the  thought  that 
things  may  be  gone  forever.”^®  When  a man  has  nothing  with 
which  to  offset  this  experience — the  old  religion  had  its  way  of 
meeting  it — he  is  inwardly  lamed,  weakened;  he  no  longer 
schools  himself  in  striving  and  enduring,  wants  present  enjoy- 
ment, makes  things  easy  for  himself.  Here  is  part-explanation, 
Nietzsche  thinks,  of  the  secularist  tendency  {Verweltlichung) 
of  our  time  and  of  the  political  and  socialistic  illusions  growing 
out  of  it — the  object  is  the  welfare  of  the  fleeting  individual, 
who  has  no  reason  for  waiting,  as  men  with  eternal  souls  and 
eternal  possibilities  for  growing  better  had  in  the  past.^^ 
Against  this  whole  weakening,  laming  tendency  Nietzsche  thinks 
that  his  doctrine  is  a counterpoise — it  gives  weight,  dignity, 
yes  eternity  to  life.  “This  life — thy  eternal  life.”^®  “This 
thought  contains  more  than  all  religions,  which  have  despised 
this  life  as  something  fleeting  and  have  directed  men’s  attention 

Zaratliustra,  III,  xiii,  2;  prologue,  §6. 

‘“Both  this  and  the  preceding  quotations  are  from  Werke,  XII,  66, 
§ 123. 

Will  to  Power,  §417;  Werke,  XII,  63-4,  §§  115-6. 

Werke,  XII,  67,  § 126. 


THE  IDEA  OF  ETERNAL  RECURRENCE 


175 


to  an  undetermined  other  life.”^^  Nietzsche  holds  that  the  old 
Alexandrian  culture  went  to  pieces,  because  with  all  its  dis- 
coveries and  love  of  knowledge,  it  did  not  know  how  to  give 
supreme  weight  to  this  life,  but  regarded  the  beyond  as  more 
important.™'  He  even  thinks  that  his  doctrine  is  the  turning- 
point  of  history.®' 

The  difficulty  of  course  arises  (and  it  is  urged  by  several 
critics),®  that  if  our  action  now  fixes  so  far  the  character  of  our 
future  existence,  it  must  also  be  true,  according  to  the  terms 
of  the  theory,  that  this  action  is  itself  determined  by  what  we 
(or  our  counterparts)  have  done  in  an  earlier  existence,  so  that 
real  self-determination  is  out  of  the  question.  It  is  a difficulty 
not  unlike  at  bottom  that  which  the  Calvinist  has  in  reconciling 
free-will  with  Divine  predestination.  Indeed,  since  the  influ- 
ence of  our  past  existence  is  not  direct,  but  through  the  medium 
of  a set  of  causes  which  have  been  operating  through  untold 
intervals  of  time  and  are  now  at  last  the  immediate  antecedents 
of  our  present  action,  the  difficulty  is  the  same  as  that  which 
is  connected  with  any  kind  of  determinist  view  of  human  con- 
duct. How  can  I really  decide  what  my  action  shall  be,  when 
it  is  but  a link  in  the  general  causal  chain?  Nietzsche  does 
not  solve  the  problem,  nor  does  he  specially  discuss  it — but  he 
was  perhaps  not  unaware  of  it,  and  once  makes  a remark,  which, 
I think,  shows  how  he  would  have  approached  it.  To  the  ques- 
tion, “But  when  all  is  necessary,  how  can  I decide  (verfugen) 
about  my  actions?”  he  answers,  “Thought  and  belief  are  a 
determining  influence  along  with  all  the  other  influences  that 
press  upon  you,  and  are  more  of  an  influence  than  they.  You 
say  that  food,  place,  air,  society  change  and  determine  you? 
Now  your  opinions  do  it  still  more,  for  they  determine  you  to 
this  food,  place,  air,  society.  When  you  incorporate  in  yourself 
the  thought  of  thoughts  [eternal  recurrence],  it  will  transform 
you. ”52  Tjjat  is,  the  thought  or  belief  (with  which  the  “I”  is 
practically  identical)  is  itself  a part  of  the  deterministic  chain; 
the  causal  law  is  not  violated  by  the  seemingly  free  act.  In  any 
case  Nietzsche  is  entirely  undisturbed  by  the  determinist  dif- 
ficulty when  it  comes  to  deciding  how  he  is  to  act,  and  as  little 

Hid.,  XII,  66-7,  § 124.  ”76id,  XIV,  14;  XII,  65,  § 120. 

’‘Uhid.,  XII,  67-8,  § 127.  ‘Ubid.,  XII,  64,  § 117. 


176 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


by  the  remoter  difficulty  of  a predetermination  ages  on  ages 
ago — and  probably  Calvinists  and  determinists  in  general  are 
quite  like  the  rest  of  us  in  acting  as  if  they  were  free  from  day 
to  day  now.'' 

That  the  doctrine  of  recurrence  can  withstand  criticism,  I by 
no  means  assert.  Writers  on  the  whole  friendly  to  Nietzsche 
have  criticised  it.'  I am  simply  endeavoring  to  set  it  forth  as 
he  held  it.  But  it  is  tolerably  evident  that  it  is  not  an  entirely 
fantastic  or  mystical  doctrine.  Nietzsche  himself  was  not  dog- 
matic about  it.  One  of  his  critics  notes  that  he  simply  called  it 
“the  most  scientific  of  all  possible  hypotheses — hypothesis 
then  still.  He  speaks  of  recurrence  as  “more  probable”  than 
non-recurrence.^^  He  is  even  willing  to  say,  “Perhaps  it  is  not 
true;  let  others  wrestle  with  it.”®^  Still  he  was  aware  that 
practically  speaking,  as  Bishop  Butler  has  told  us,  probability 
is  the  guide  of  life.  Remarking  on  the  effect  which  repetitions 
in  general  have  (e.g.,  the  seasons,  periodic  illnesses,  waking  and 
sleeping),  he  says,  “If  the  circular  repetition  of  things  is  only 
a probability  or  possibility,  even  the  thought  of  a possibility 
can  agitate  and  refashion  us,  not  merely  actual  sensations  or 
definite  expectations.  How  has  the  possibility  of  eternal  damna- 
tion worked  on  men!  And  yet  Nietzsche  wanted  as  much 
proof  for  his  ideas  as  he  could  get.  Not  for  nothing  was  he 
the  child  of  a scientific  and  experimental  age.  He  even  said 
once  that  he  no  longer  wished  to  hear  of  things  and  questions 
about  which  experiment  was  impossible,®^  and  we  have  his 
sister’s  testimony  that  he  mistrusted  all  those  enraptured  and 
extreme  states  in  which  people  fancy  that  they  “grasp  truth 
with  their  hands.”®®  We  know  that  in  the  winter  before  the 
thought  of  eternal  recurrence  crystalized,  he  had  been  reading 
with  lively  agreement  Helmholtz,  Wundt  (his  earlier  writings), 
and  the  mathematician  Riemann.®®  Professor  Richter  even  says 
that  he  worked  out  his  doctrine  with  the  help  of  three  mathe- 

Friedrich  Rittelmeyer,  Friedrich  Nietzsche  und  die  Religion,  p.  64, 
quoting  Werke  (1st  ed. ),  XV,  21. 

“ Werke,  XII,  .56. 

" Ihid.,  XIV,  295. 

Werke,  XII,  65,  § 119. 

" Joyful  Science,  § 51. 

' ® Werke  ( pocket  ed. ) , VI,  xvi. 

Ihid.,  VI,  xii. 


THE  IDEA  OF  ETERNAL  RECURRENCE 


177 


matical  and  scientific  books,  which  he  specifies.®  We  know  also 
that  a year  after  he  had  made  his  first  fragmentary  formulation 
of  it,  he  wished  to  test  and  criticise  it  afresh,  and  proposed  an 
extended  course  of  study  at  Vienna  (or  Paris  or  Munich) — he 
would  stop  writing  for  several  years,  he  declared,  and  begin 
student-life  over  again.  Unhappily  (or  happily)  the  plan  could 
not  be  carried  out,  because  of  poor  health,  and  particularly  the 
state  of  his  eyes.’^  And  yet  it  must  be  doubted  whether  scientific 
and  physical  studies  such  as  he  looked  forward  to,  however 
careful  and  extended  they  might  be,  could  ever  dispose  of  ques- 
tions of  this  far-reaching  nature.  Professor  Fouillee  called 
speculations  like  Nietzsche’s  “toutes  subjeciives.”  The  ele- 
ment of  truth  in  the  reproach  is  that  in  the  nature  of  the  case 
they  are  incapable  of  scientific  verification.  How  can  one  by 
experimental  investigation  decide  whether  the  sum-total  of 
force  in  the  universe  is  finite  or  infinite?  How  can  there  be  a 
scientific  demonstration  of  the  state  of  the  cosmos  billions  of 
years  ago,  or  billions  of  years  to  come?  How  can  one  get 
objective  evidence  that  time  is  unending  or  that  empty  space 
is  unreal?  How  at  the  very  best  can  we  get  beyond  certain 
necessities  of  thought,  which  it  is  open  to  any  one  to  pronounce 
‘‘toutes  suhjectives”?  The  fact  is  that  probabilities  or  possi- 
bilities are  all  we  can  have  in  regions  like  these — and  yet  must 
we  not  proceed  on  probabilities  and  possibilities  in  our  concrete 
(as  opposed  to  formal)  thinking  almost  everywhere?  However 
this  may  be,  Nietzsche  never  had  his  years  of  projected  study, 
and  never  got  beyond  such  fragmentary  formulations  of  his 
doctrine  as  we  have,  and  the  lyrical  expression  of  it  in  Zara- 
thustra. 


rv 

Nietzsche  is  commonly  taxed  with  error  in  claiming  to  be 
the  first  to  teach  the  doctrine.  Indeed  he  himself  says  that  it 
might  have  been  taught  by  Heraclitus — that  at  least  the  Stoa, 
which  inherited  nearly  all  its  fundamental  conceptions  from 


°°  Schmitz-Dumont’s  Mathematische  Elemente  der  Erkenntnisstheorie, 
the  same  writer’s  Die  Einheit  der  Naturkraft,  and  0.  Caspari’s  Der 
Zusammenhang  der  Dinge  (Richter,  op.  cit.,  p.  278). 

Nietzsche  et  I’lmmoralisme,  p.  2\1 . 


178 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


Heraclitus,  has  traces  of  Something  like  it  appears  in 

Holderlin’s  “Empedokles,”  in  Heine’s  Toy  age  de  Munich  d 
Genes,  in  Blanqui’s  Eternite  par  les  Astres — and,  to  speak  of 
more  strictly  scientific  or  philosophical  writers,  in  Julius 
Bahnsen’s  Zur  Philosophic  der  Geschichte,  in  Guyau’s  Vers 
d’un  Philosophe,  in  von  Niigeli’s  address  before  the  Congress 
of  German  Naturalists  in  Munich,  1878,  in  Gustave  Le  Bon’s 
L’ Homme  et  les  SocietesP  Professor  Meyer  even  refers  to 
Nietzsche’s  old  enemy,  von  Wilamowitz-Mollendorf,  as  having 
expressed  belief  in  similar  “cosmic  periods”  (in  a lecture, 
“ W eltperioden”)  and  Professor  Saintsbury  would  turn  the 
idea  into  ridicule  by  calling  it  “only  an  echo  of  the  carpenter 
in  ‘Peter  Simple.’”®  Nietzsche  had  early  referred  to  the 
Pythagorean  view  (that  under  the  same  constellation  of  the 
heavenly  bodies,  the  same  things  would  happen  on  earth),  but 
he  thought  that  it  savored  of  astrology  and  did  not  take  it  seri- 
ously.® The  basis  for  the  charge  of  error  against  him  is  a 
certain  passage  in  Zarathustra — at  least  I can  find  nothing 
beyond  this.  In  this  passage  the  animals  who  attend  the 
prophet,  and  are  joyfully  welcoming  him  back  to  life  after  an 
illness,  divine  the  meaning  of  the  illness  and  exclaim,  “Sing 
and  bubble  over,  0 Zarathustra,  heal  thy  soul  with  new  songs, 
that  thou  mayest  endure  thy  destiny,  which  was  that  of  no 
one  yet.  For  thy  animals  know  well,  0 Zarathustra,  who  thou 
art  and  must  become : behold,  thou  art  the  teacher  of  eternal 
recurrence — that  is  now  thy  destiny ! That  thou  must  be  the 
first  to  teach  this  doctrine — how  should  this  great  destiny  not 
be  also  thy  greatest  danger  and  illness ! ” ® The  natural  inter- 
pretation here  is  that  Zarathustra  is  to  be  the  first  of  a line  to 
proclaim  the  doctrine,  with  then  the  dangers  and  risks  of  an 
initiator — the  thought  is  rather  of  the  future,  than  of  exclusion 
in  relation  to  the  past.  But  if  “first”  is  taken  otherwise  and 
implies  what  the  critics  assume,  the  question  is,  whether  in  the 
form  in  which  Nietzsche  taught  the  doctrine,  it  is  not  new.  For 

Ecce  Homo,  IIT,  i,  § 3. 

See  Drews,  op.  cit.,  pp  334-5;  Fouillee,  op.  cit.,  pp.  207-10;  Meyer, 
op.  cit.,  p.  464. 

Meyer,  op.  cit.,  p.  62. 

History  of  Criticism,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  584  n. 

"“The  Use  and  Harm  of  History,  etc.,”  sect.  2. 

Zarathustra,  III,  xiii,  § 2. 


THE  IDEA  OF  ETERNAL  RECURRENCE 


179 


to  him  it  is  bound  up  with  the  idea  of  something  superhuman  to 
come — only  in  this  shape  would  he  have  published  it : unre- 
lieved, unrelated  in  this  way,  he  would  probably  have  allowed 
it  to  remain  in  the  dark  chambers  of  his  own  mind.  Zara- 
thustra  is  made  to  say,  “I  come  again,  with  this  sun,  with  this 
earth,  with  this  eagle,  with  this  serpent — not  to  a new  life  or 
a better  life  or  a similar  life;  I come  again  eternally  to  this 
identical  and  selfsame  life,  in  its  greatest  and  also  in  its  smallest, 
to  teach  again  the  eternal  return  of  all  things — to  announce  to 
men  the  superman.”  ^ The  two  things — eternal  return  and 
superman — are  interwoven  in  Nietzsche’s  mind;  and  no  one,  I 
imagine,  will  claim  that  this  full-orbed  view  had  ever  been 
taught  before. 

On  another  point,  however,  it  is  difficult  to  acquit  Nietzsche 
of  error,  and  even  of  a certain  naivete.  He  entertained  the  idea 
— nay,  a.ppears  to  have  been  convinced  of  it — that  the  doctrine 
would  make  a veritable  selection  among  men.  The  weaker,  he 
believed,  would  not  be  able  to  stand  it,  they  would  be  undone 
at  the  thought  of  an  unending  repetition  of  their  pitiful  lives, 
and  not  knowing  how,  or  being  without  the  energy,  to  transform 
them,  they  would  be  driven  to  despair  and  suicide.  Only  the 
strong,  the  brave,  those  capable  of  great  things  could  face  the 
doctrine  with  equanimity,  and  with  this  type  of  men  surviving 
and  occupying  the  earth,  things  would  be  possible,  of  which  no 
utopist  has  as  yet  dreamed.®^  “It  is  the  great  disciplinary 
(zuchtende)  thought:  the  races  that  cannot  endure  it  are 
doomed,  those  that  feel  it  as  the  greatest  benefit  are  chosen  for 
dominion.”^®  But  that  the  relatively  unreflecting  and  unim- 
aginative mass  of  men  are  going  to  be  deeply  affected  by  some- 
thing that  is  to  happen  to  them  ages  on  ages  to  come  is  most 
improbable ; if  they  are  not  driven  to  suicide  now  by  the  char- 
acter of  their  lot,  a prospective  renewal  of  it  at  some  unknown 
time  in  the  future  will  hardly  disturb  them  much  more  deeply. 
In  truth,  Nietzsche,  in  thinking  as  he  does,  transfers  to  others 
quite  different  from  himself  his  own  imaginative  intelligence ; 
because  he  would  suffer  to  despair  in  their  place,  he  infers  that 


Ibid.,  Ill,  xiii,  § 2.  The  italics  are  mine. 
Werice,  XII,  65-6,  § 121;  Will  to  Power,  § 55. 
Will  to  Power,  § 1053. 


180 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


they  must — while  it  is  just  because  he  is  so  different  from  them 
that  he  does  so  suffer.  Unquestionably  the  view  is  very  real  to 
him.  He  says,  “You  fancy  that  you  would  have  long  repose 
before  rebirth — but  do  not  deceive  yourselves.  Between  the  last 
moment  of  consciousness  and  the  first  appearance  of  the  new 
life,  ‘no  time’  intervenes — it  is  as  quickly  by  as  a lightning- 
fiash,  even  if  living  creatures  measure  it  by  billions  of  years  or 
cannot  measure  it  at  all.  When  the  mind  is  away,  timelessness 
and  succession  are  compatible  with  one  another.  He  even 
fancies  that  the  mass  may  look  approvingly  on  his  doctrine  at 
the  start,  since  it  means  immortality  of  a certain  kind  and  the 
most  ordinary  impulses  of  self-preservation  will  respond  to 
it  ram  Equally,  he  suspects,  the  finer,  nobler  spirits  will  be  at 
first  depressed  and  in  danger  of  extirpation  (even  as  he  had 
been),  leaving  the  commoner,  less  sensitive  nature  to  survive — 
a probability  the  reverse  of  the  view  first  stated,  and,  I should 
say,  likelier.  He  is  thus  not  really  certain  as  to  what  the  popular 
effect  of  his  doctrine  will  be — now  he  suspects  one  consequence 
and  now  another.  The  only  thing  we  or  he  can  speak  with  real 
assurance  about  is  its  effect  on  himself — for  to  him  the  doctrine 
became  something  like  a religion. 

But  if  a religion,  it  is  one  without  the  gestures  that  often 
accompany  religion.  It  is  “mild  to  those  who  do  not  believe  it; 
it  has  no  hell  and  no  threats — the  only  result  is  that  one  is  left 
with  a fleeting  life  in  his  consciousness.”^^  It  were  horrible  to 
think  of  sin  in  such  a connection ; whatever  we  do,  even  if  we 
repeat  it  innumerable  times,  is  innocent,  and  if  the  thought 
of  eternal  recurrence  does  not  convince  us,  there  is  no  blame, 
as  there  is  no  merit,  if  it  does.'^®  He  has  no  desire  that  the  doc- 
trine should  become  a religion  suddenly — it  must  sink  into 
men’s  minds  slowly;  whole  generations  must  work  on  it — long, 
long  must  it  be  small  and  weak.  What  are  the  two  millenniums 
during  which  Christianity  has  existed — the  greatest  thought 
v/ill  require  many  millenniums ! He  wishes  the  doctrine  stated 

” Werhe,  XII,  66,  § 122. 

” Ihid.,  XII,  .371,  § 730. 

XII,  370,  § 729;  XIV,  264,  §15. 

” Ibid.,  XII,  68,  § 128. 

” Ibid.,  XII,  68,  § 129. 

” Ibid.,  XII,  68-9,  § 130. 


THE  IDEA  OF  ETEFNAL  RECURRENCE 


181 


^‘simply  and  almost  dryly must  not  need  eloquence  to 
commend  it.  ” He  wards  off  :^ollowers  who  believe  easily  and 
get  enthusiastic — they  must  have  passed  through  every  grade 
of  skepticism,  must  have  bathed  with  pleasure  in  waters  icy- 
cold,  otherwise  they  have  no  inner  right  to  the  thought.^® 

The  idea  of  eternal  recurrence  was  very  vital  to  Nietzsche 
for  a time ; but,  though  still  held,  it  seems  to  have  receded  some- 
what into  the  background  in  his  latest  years — at  least  his  ethical 
and  social  views  develope  quite  independently  of  it,  and  have 
whatever  validity  they  possess  irrespective  of  it. 

” lUd.,  XII,  69,  § 131. 


Ihid.,  XII,  69,  § 132. 


I 


CHAPTER  XV 

ULTIMATE  REALITY  AS  WILL  TO  POWER " 

I HAVE  considered  Nietzsche’s  general  view  of  the  world  and 
of  the  law  of  recurrence  in  it — it  remains  now  to  state  his  con- 
clusions as  to  its  ultimate  nature.  They  were  reached  (so  far 
as  they  were  reached)  by  a complicated  process  of  arguing 
with  himself,  which  it  is  not  altogether  easy  to  resolve.  The 
way  is  labyrinthine — I have  come  near  being  lost  in  it  myself. 
We  have  only  notes  preparatory  to  his  final  systematic  treatise, 
not  the  treatise  itself.  I can  only  give  the  best  results  which 
I have  been  able  to  attain — perhaps  even  so  I make  him  more 
consistent  than  he  really  was.  The  essential  logic  of  his  pro- 
cedure (I  do  not  mean  the  temporal  order)  appears  to  have 
been  something  like  the  following — at  least  I can  best  present 
his  varying  judgments  or  attributes  under  these  heads: 

(1)  The  world  (the  world  as  we  commonly  understand  it) 
is  not  real — the  world  of  “science”  as  little  as  that  of  common 
sense. 

(2)  We  make  the  world  real,  i.e.,  posit  it  as  such,  have  to 
for  life,  and  none  the  less  delude  ourselves. 

(3)  Is  there  any  reality? 

(4)  Reality  conceived  as  power  and  will  to  power. 

1 

The  first  proposition,  the  world  is  not  real,  is  only  a restate- 
ment and  amplification  of  the  view  which  was  taking  shape  in 
his  first  period.  The  world  of  colors,  sounds,  resistances,  etc., 
exists  only  in  our  mind  or  feeling.^  Abstract  the  sensibilities 
of  sentient  beings,  and  it  would  disappear.  We  have  no  reason 
to  suppose  that  our  images  of  tree,  stone,  water,  etc.,  faithfully 
refiect  things  outside  us.  They  are  our  creation,  in  response  to 
stimuli  that  come  to  us : to  one  stimulus  we  respond  with  color, 

’ The  substance  of  this  chapter  appeared  in  Mind,  October,  1915  (Vol. 
XXIV,  N.  S.,  No.  96). 

^ Cf.  Will  to  Poiver,  §§  516,  545. 

182 


ULTIMATE  REALITY  AS  WILL  TO  POWER 


183 


to  another  with  sound,  and  so  on.®  We  may  think  that  we  can 
account  for  the  stimulus  by  saying  that  it  comes  from  an  object, 
but  all  the  objects  we  have  any  acquaintance  with  are  resolvable 
themselves  into  sensations  and  groups  of  sensations  like  the 
preliminary  ones  we  set  out  to  explain.  If  we  say,  for  example, 
that  green  comes  from  a tree,  we  soon  become  aware  that  the 
tree  itself  (so  far  as  it  is  separable  from  its  greenness)  is  but 
a cluster  of  other,  perhaps  more  elementary,  sensations  of  the 
same  general  kind,  such  as  hardness,  resistance,  pressure,  or 
weight.  If  we  abstract  from  all  the  sensations,  no  tree  is  left. 
As  Nietzsche  puts  it,  the  known  outer  world  is  born  after  the 
effect,  of  which  it  is  supposed  to  be  the  cause.^  Our  bodies 
themselves  are,  as  we  know  them,  groups  of  sensations  like 
everything  else — what  they  really  are  in  their  intimate  nature 
we  have  not  the  slightest  idea.’’ 

Nor  if  we  consider  the  more  refined  world  of  science,  do 
we  leave  the  subjective  sphere.  The  world  of  atoms  and  their 
movements,  which  physicists  conceive  of  as  a true  world  in 
contrast  with  the  ordinary  world  of  sense-perception,  is  not 
essentially  different  from  the  ordinary  world;  its  molecules  or 
atoms  are  only  what  we  should  see  or  handle  had  we  finer 
senses, — they  and  their  movements  are  entirely  of  a sensational 
nature.*  Moreover,  the  supposition  that  there  are  ultimate, 
indivisible,  unalterable  units  like  molecules  or  atoms  is  pure 
invention ; it  is  convenient  to  have  them  for  purposes  of  reckon- 
ing, and,  as  we  do  not  find  them,  we  proceed  to  create  them — 
this  is  all  we  can  say.®®  Mechanics  is  purely  a practical  or 
regulative  science.®  (I  may  remark  in  passing  that  Nietzsche 
thinks  that  the  Dalmatian  Boscovitch  put  an  end  to  materialistic 
atomism,  as  the  Pole  Copernicus  had  done  to  the  notion  of  a 
fixed  earth ).^  It  is  the  same  with  “force”  or  “forces,”  in  the 
purely  mechanical  sense.  We  know  only  effects — no  one  has 
ever  got  hold  of  a force,  as  ni'echanieal  philosophy  pictures  it. 
Force,  in  this  sense,  is  really  a piece  of  abstraction,  a more  or 
less  arbitrary  creation.  We  ourselves  have  a certain  feeling  of 

= IMd.,  § 479. 

* IMd.,  § 636. 

' Ihid.,  § 624. 

= Cf.  Werke,  XII,  33,  § 63 ; XIV,  45,  § 83 ; also  p.  325. 

’ Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 12. 


184 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


force  (of  tension,  of  overcoming  opposition)  in  muscular  ex- 
ertion, and  the  physicist  proceeds  to  take  this  force  apart  from 
the  consciousness  and  feeling  that  it  is  and  all  its  human  accom- 
paniments and  to  put  it  into  the  external  world — really  there 
it  is  an  empty  word.®  Similarly  fictitious  are  the  purely 
mechanical  push  and  pull,  attraction  and  repulsion,  imagined  to 
exist  between  the  atoms.  Without  an  aim,  an  attraction  or  a 
repulsion  is  an  unintelligible  thing.  The  will  toward  something 
and  to  get  it  into  our  power,  or  against  something  to  repel  it, 
is  something  we  can  understand;  but  the  physicist’s  ‘‘attrac- 
tion” and  “repulsion”  are  words  simply.®  So  as  to  necessity 
in  the  world : we  put  it  there — we  add  it  to  the  facts,  for,  because 
something  acts  definitely  and  always  so  acts,  it  does  not  follow 
that  it  is  forced  to.^®  Equally  mythological  are  the  laws  which 
things  are  supposed  to  obey.^^  Sometimes  scientific  men  give 
up  attempts  at  explaining  things,  and  content  themselves  with 
description — reducing  phenomena  perhaps  to  mathematical 
terms,  and  causality  to  relations  of  equivalence  between  them; 
but  this  mathematizing  of  things  brings  us  no  nearer  objective 
reality,  perhaps  takes  us  further  away  from  it — the  abstract 
quantities  and  their  relations  being  still  essentially  sensible 
things,  though  eviscerated  and  ghost-like  forms  of  them.^® 
Although  Nietzsche  does  not  question  the  reality  of  the  psy- 
chological world  itself,  he  finds  that  fictitious  elements  are  more 
or  less  introduced  here.  A subject,  for  example,  in  the  sense 
of  something  added  to  the  feelings  and  thoughts  themselves,  is 
fictitious.  He  criticises  “I  think,”  suggesting  that  “it  thinks” 
would  be  a more  proper  expression,  but  adding  that  the  “it,” 
too,  must  in  the  end  go:  there  is  no  “I”  or  “it”  separate  from 
the  thinking — no  constant  unchanging  reality  of  that  sort.'®® 

* Will  to  Power,  §§  619-21,  551. 

» Cf.  ihid.,  §§  622,  627. 

Ihid.,  § 552. 

” Ihid.,  §§  629,  6.30;  cf.  Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 9;  Werke,  XII,  30,  § 56. 

“ Cf.  Joyful  Science,  § 373;  Werke  (pocket  ed.),  VIII,  x;  Will  to 
Power,  §§  554,  618.  I need  scarcely  add  that  explaining  and  compre- 
hending things  is  not  a problem  that  Nietzsche  thinks  can  be  put  to  one 
side;  cf.  the  implications  of  Will  to  Power,  §§  624-8;  Beyond  Good  and 
Evil,  § 14;  Werke,  XIII,  82-4.  He  can  only  say  that  phenomena  them- 
selves cannot  be  causes  ( Will  to  Power,  § 545 ) . 

” Cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §§16,  17,  54;  Will  to  Power,  §§481, 
488;  Werke,  XI,  185,  § 76. 


ULTIMATE  REALITY  AS  WILL  TO  POWER 


185 


A “substance”. of  mind  goes  in  the  same  way;  indeed  the 
body  comes  nearer  to  being  a substantial  reality  than  the  mind, 
though  to  neither  is  “substance”  really  applicable.^^ 

In  the  same  way  “things,”  as  any  wise  distinct  from  their 
attributes  or  activities,  are  not  real;  object  taken  as  a “thing” 
is  no  more  real  than  subject,  matter  no  more  real  than  mind.^® 

A “thing”  is  only  a certain  sum  of  activities  bound  together 
by  a concept  or  image.  “Things,”  “objects,”  “subjects,” 
“substance,”  “ego,”  “matter”  are  the  metaphysics  of  the 
people,  by  which  they  seek  to  transcend  the  shifting  realm  of 
change,  alone  directly  known  to  us ; they  want  something  perma- 
nent and  this  is  the  way  they  get  it:  but  the  entities  are  ficti- 
tious, imaginary. 

Hence,  in  general,  the  world  we  commonly  picture  is  a false  j 
one,  not  real:  we  fancy  that  it  exists  quite  independently  of 
us,  that  we  simply  find  it — and  we  are  mistaken.  We  may 
correct  our  images  in  this  way  and  that,  may  make  one  inter- 
pretation of  the  world  succeed  another,  but  we  do  not  get 
beyond  images  and  interpretations : the  original  data  in  the  case 
are  a meager  quantity,  and  even  they  are  not  reality  itself  (in 
the  independent  sense),  but  the  way  or  ways  in  which  reality 
affects  us.'^  ® 


II 

Second,  we  make  the  world  real,  i.e.,  hold  it  so,  do  so  the 
better  to  live,  and  none  the  less  delude  ourselves.  The  under- 
lying thought  is  that  life,  uncertain  and  changing  as  it  is,  needs 
something  on  which  to  stay  itself;  with  this  it  walks  more 
securely,  has  greater  confidence.’®  We  assume  that  what  we  need 
exists,  and,  by  a subtle  process  of  self-deception,  transfer  some 
of  our  experiences  into  an  objective  and  supposably  unchanging 
world.  As  Nietzsche  puts  it,  we  project  our  conditions  of 


“ Will  to  Power,  § 552;  cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 12. 

“ Cf.  Zarathustra,  I,  iv.  Nietzsche  finds  two  elements  in  the  notion 
“substance,”  on  the  one  hand,  the  idea  of  something  permanent  (see, 
e.g.,  Werke,  XII,  33,  §62),  on  the  other  that  of  a subject  {ibid.,  XV,  1st 
ed.,  281 ) , so  that  if  “ subject  ” disappears  as  without  scientific  warrant, 
“ substance  ” must  also. 

'^Will  to  Poioer,  §§551-2. 

Ibid.,  §§  12  (A),  522,  542,  602,  604,  616. 

” Cf.  ibid.,  § 552d. 


186 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


maintenance,  and  turn  them  into  predicates  of  existence,^®  We 
convert  trees  and  stones  and  stars  into  independent  realities  and 
feel  thereby  at  ease  and  secure.  And  when  science  comes  with 
its  analysis  and  makes  us  aware  that  these  sensible  objects 
cannot  exist  just  as  they  appear,  the  same  feeling  and  craving 
leads  us  to  form  (or  to  acquiesce  in  the  effort  of  science  to 
form)  the  idea  of  elementary  kinds  of  matter,  molecules,  atoms, 
or  what  not,  that  do  not  have  these  palpable  subjective  refer- 
ences. Indeed,  practical  need  plays  no  small  part  in  determining 
our  beliefs  in  general.  For  example,  experience  gives  us  a whole 
host  of  particulars — how  shall  we  get  on  with  them?  If  every- 
thing is  particular,  and  nothing  like  another,  how  can  we  know 
what  to  expect  and  how  to  act?  Accordingly  we  classify  the 
particulars  or  try  to,  make  groups  of  them,  so  far  as  they  have 
points  of  resemblance,  say,  this  is  the  same  as  that — and  reason 
and  act  accordingly.  But  there  is  no  real  identity  in  the  world, 
and  a purely  theoretic  instinct  never  would  have  come  on  such 
a notion : our  ordinary  reasoning  and  logic  are  but  a rough 
rule  of  thumb.^®‘'  So  practical  need,  rather  than  theoretical 
interest,  determines  the  common  ideas  of  causality,  substance, 
subject,  ego,  being  as  opposed  to  becoming,  also  the  ordinary 
articles  of  religious  faith  and  conceptions  like  desert  and  guilt 
— they  are  useful  to  man  and  society,  therefore  we  hold  them 
valid  and  true.^^  Christianity,  Nietzsche  observes,  is  necessary 
to  most  in  old  Europe  now,  and  a religious  doctrine  may  be 
refuted  a thousand  times,  but  if  necessary,  man  will  still  hold  to 
it.^  So  valuations  of  things  are  necessary  to  life,  and  under 
the  workings  of  similar  impulses  and  by  a similar  self-deception 
we  put  good  and  bad  into  things,  making  them  intrinsic  there, 
though  as  matter  of  fact  all  values  are  of  our  positing  and  repre- 
sent simply  conditions  of  our  self-preservation.^ 

In  other  words,  a large  range  of  belief  and  even  of  so-called 
“knowledge”  has  nothing  to  do  with  truth  and  never  came  from 
the  search  for  it.‘  Nietzsche  remarks  that  those  who  urge 

x'  lUd.,  § 507. 

““  Cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  423,  515,  610;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §191. 

Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 497  (as  to  causality)  ; § 513  (as  to  substance, 
subject,  etc.);  § 354  (as  to  religious  errors). 

Joyful  Science,  § 347. 

See  later,  p.  218. 


ULTIMATE  REALITY  AS  WILL  TO  POWER 


187 


strictly  scientific  methods  of  thinking  have  the  whole  pathos  of 
mankind  against  them.^*  And  so  far  does  he  go  in  sympathy 
with  “mankind”  that  he  is  ready  to  say  that  if  a choice  has  to 
be  made  between  truth  and  the  requirements  of  life,  the  require- 
ments of  life  should  come  first.  Why  may  not  illusions  be 
allowed  to  stand,  he  virtually  asks, — on  what  ground  do  we  say 
that  truth  has  the  greater  right  to  be?  He  is  the  first  thinker, 
to  my  knowledge,  to  turn  truth  itself  into  a problem.^  He 
criticises  truth  for  truth’s  sake  as  much  as  art  for  art’s  sake  or 
the  good  for  the  good’s  sake,^®  saying  that  those  who,  instead  of 
valuing  these  things  from  the  standpoint  of  life,  make  them 
supreme  over  life,  are  only  logical  as  they  postulate  another 
world  than  this  one,  since  here  truth,  science  at  any  cost,  may 
be  inconsistent  with  life  and  an  absolute  will  to  truth  may  be  a ^ 
hidden  will  to  death Knowledge  (in  the  strict  sense)  may 
actually  not  be  desirable  for  most,^  the  world  as  we  picture  and 
conceive  it  under  the  stress  of  life’s  needs  may  be  better  than 
the  world  as  it  really  is  ^ — our  ignorance,  even  a will  to 
ignorance,  may  be  expedient  for  us.^ 

So  keenly  does  Nietzsehe  feel  all  this,  that  for  a moment  he 
is  willing  to  revise  his  idea  of  truth.  Wishing  to  keep  the  word 
in  its  customary  honorific  sense,  he  says,  let  us  agree  to  desig- 
nate as  truth  what  furthers  life  and  elevates  the  type  of  man.®® 
As  he  once  puts  it  paradoxically  (mingling  the  two  meanings 
of  truth  in  the  same  sentence),  truth  is  the  kind  of  error  without 
which  a definite  type  of  human  being  could  not  live.®“  He 
tries  valiantly  to  keep  to  this  new  definition.®®  And  yet  the 
settled  uses  of  languages  prove  too  much  for  him  and  we  find 


Will  to  Power,  § 469. 

Genealogy  of  Morals,  III,  § 24.  The  very  reverence  for  truth  is 
partly  the  result  of  illusion,  i.e.,  of  thinking  that  the  values  which  we 
put  into  existence  are  there  independently  of  us. 

Will  to  Power,  § 298. 

^''Joyful  Science,  § 344;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 608. 

‘‘^Joyful  Science  (preface  of  1886);  cf.  §§  54,  299,  301,  344;  Gene- 
alogy etc..  Ill,  §24;  Will  to  Poicer,  §§  583,  598  (“the  truth  is  ugly”); 
Joyful  Science,  § 107  (“our  final  gratitude  to  art”). 

Will  to  Power,  § 609. 

Ihid.,  § 51 ; cf.  Werke,  XII,  209,  § 442. 

Will  to  Power,  § 493;  cf.  Werke  (pocket  ed.),  VII,  xviii  (“knowl- 
edge is  error  that  becomes  organic  and  organizes  ” ) . 

In  accordance  with  it  he  even  speaks  at  times  of  “ creating  ” truth 
(cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 552). 


188 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


him  continually  relapsing  into  the  ordinary  methods  of  speech. 
He  says  time  and  again  that  the  necessities  of  life  prove  nothing 
as  to  truth.  Schematizing  for  purposes  of  practical  control  he 
still  specifically  distinguishes  from  knowing.^^  Is  it  really 
knowing  a thing,  he  asks,  to  class  it  with  something  else  with 
which  one  is  already  familiar  and  so  find  it  less  strange? — this 
when  both  alike  may  be  unknown,  the  things  we  are  most 
familiar  with  being  sometimes  the  least  known,  inasmuch  as  they 
excite  no  curiosity  and  we  fancy  we  know  them  already.^  Com- 
prehending, explaining,  understanding — that  alone  fills  out 
Nietzsche’s  idea  of  knowing;  and  classifying,  not  to  say  math- 
ematizing,  only  touches  the  borders  of  the  subject.'"  That  a 
belief  is  convenient,  practical,  even  necessary,  proves  nothing 
as  to  its  standing  m foro  scientice.  The  law  of  causality,  for 
example,  may,  like  other  so-called  a priori  truths,  be  so  much 
a part  of  us  that  unbelief  in  it  would  cause  our  undoing — is 
it  therefore  true?  As  if  truth  were  proved  by  our  remaining 
alive The  idea  of  an  “ego”  may  be  indispensable,  and  for 
all  that  be  a fiction.^®  The  ideas  of  a given  type  of  being  simply 
prove  what  is  necessary  for  it,  and  the  ideas  may  vary  as  the 
types  vary.  The  Euclidean  space  may,  like  our  kind  of  reason, 
be  simply  an  idiosyncrasy  of  certain  kinds  of  animals — other 
kinds  might  find  necessary  a space  of  four  dimensions  and  have 
a different  type  of  logic  from  the  human.^’’  So  with  valuations. 
The  valuations  of  one  species,  being  from  the  standpoint  of  its 
particular  interests,  may  differ  from  those  of  another  species, 
the  interests  of  which  are  different;  or,  if  the  ruling  impulses 
vary,  differing  estimations  of  ends  and  means,  different  inter- 
pretations of  historical  events,  different  world-perspectives  gen- 
erally may  result.^  " It  is  naive  to  take  man  as  the  measure  of 
things,  either  theoretically  or  practically.^®  We  do  not  know 

Will  to  Power,  §515;  cf.  Werlce,  XIII,  52,  §123. 

^'Joyful  Science,  § 355;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 479. 

“ Will  to  Power,  § 497. 

Ihid.,  § 483.  Cf.  in  general  as  to  most  indispensable  judgments 
being  at  the  same  time  false,  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §4  (also  Werlce, 
XIV,  16,  §24). 

Will  to  Power,  § 5\5-,  Werlce  (pocket  ed.),  VIII,  x.  Nietzsche  even 
has  critical  reflections  on  the  “ law  of  non-contradiction  ” ( Will  to  Power, 
§§515-6). 

»»  Will  to  Power,  §§  567,  481,  605. 

Cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 483;  Joyful  Science,  § 249;  Beyond  Good  and 
Evil,  §3;  Will  to  Power,  §12  (B). 


ULTIMATE  REALITY  AS  WILL  TO  POWER  189 


but  that  some  beings  might  experience  time  backwards,  or  for- 
wards and  backwards  alternately,  whence  would  result  other 
directions  of  life  and  other  conceptions  of  cause  and 
effect  than  those  with  which  we  are  familiar.  It  is  a 
hopeless  curiosity,  indeed,  to  wish  to  see  round  our  corner, 
but  Nietzsche  thinks  or  hopes  that  at  least  we  are  modest 
enough  not  to  claim  that  our  perspective  is  the  only 
one.  He  even  says  that  by  reflections  such  as  these  the  world 
becomes  infinite  to  him  again,  i.e.,  capable  of  an  infinite  variety 
of  interpretations, — though  he  has  no  notion  of  worshiping  the 
new  infinity,  since  it  may  include  Mwdivine  interpretations  as 
well  as  the  other  kind.®  All  the  interpretations  may  be  justified 
relatively  to  those  who  make  them,  and  none  have  strictly  ob- 
jective warrant.  But  then  the  question  arises  (and  this  is  the 
third  point)  : — 


HI 

Are  there  any  objective  things,  is  there  any  reality  (in  the 
independent  sense)  at  all?  Nietzsche  may  have  wavered  here 
at  times — in  any  case  his  language  is  not  always  consistent.  Still 
two  things  stand  out  with  tolerable  distinctness.  One  is,  that 
his  very  language  about  falsehood,  error,  illusion,  indicate  that 
in  the  background  of  his  mind  lurks  the  idea  of  something  or 
other,  the  knowledge  of  which  would  be  truth.  Indeed  he  ex- 
plicitly says  as  much — as,  for  example,  in  speaking  of  the  possi- 
bility that  the  “real  make-up”  {wahre  Beschaffenheit)  of  things 
may  be  so  harmful  to  life,  so  opposed  to  its  presuppositions, 
that  illusion  is  needed  to  make  life  possible.”  He  even  uses 
Kantian  and  Schopenhauerian  language  at  times,  speaking  of 
the  “intelligible  character”  of  the  world,  i.e.,  the  world  “seen 
from  within.”®  Zarathustra  is  described  as  willing  to  see  “the 
ground  of  all  things”  and  the  ultimate  ground.®”  The  other 
thing  is  the  practically  constant  recognition  of  an  original 
mass  or  chaos  of  ^ensations.  They  are  indeed  our  creation,  but 

Joyful  Science,  § 374. 

“ Will  to  Power,  § 583  (A). 

“ Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 386.  In  Will  to  Poioer,  § 516,  the  ques- 
tion is  raised  whether  the  axioms  of  logic  are  adequate  to  the  real  or  can 
even  give  us  the  idea  of  it. 

'^Zarathustra,  III,  1. 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


in  response  to  stimuli — and  the  stimuli  Nietzsche  distinctly  does 
not  contemplate  as  self-generated.^  They  do  not  come  from 
the  outer  word  as  we  picture  it,  for  this  is  an  after-product  of 
the  sensations  themselves;  all  the  same  we  “receive”  them,  and 
Nietzsche  is  inevitably  driven  to  ask,  whence  ? 

The  idea  of  reality  outside  us  is  thus  inexpugnable  to  him. 
What  it  is,  what  its  constitution,  is  another  matter.  It  is  not 
this  familiar  world  of  common  sense;  it  is  not  the  world  of 
atoms  and  denatured  “forces”  of  popular  science;  nor  is  it 
the  world  of  purely  quantitative  and  mathematical  relations  of 
refined  science.  Still  more,  it  is  not  a world  of  “things-in- 
themselves,”  as  this  phrase  is  often  bandied  about  by  philo- 
sophical writers  who  think  to  refute  Kant  by  showing  that  the 
idea  of  things  out  of  any  kind  of  relation  is  absurd;  neither 
Kant  nor  any  other  realist  worth  mentioning  has  ever  meant 
by  independent  reality  that.  Things  are  always  in  relation — 
and  when  conceived  of  (if  they  can  be  conceived  of)  as  isolated, 
they  are  a pure  invention  of  the  mind,  an  illusion.^^  Most  em- 
phatically it  is  not  a world  of  pure  and  changeless  being  such 
as  Schopenhauer  dreamed  of.  That  being  changes  is  our 
ground-certainty  about  it.^®  Schopenhauer’s  other  world  is  the 
product  of  a mind  ill  at  ease  in  the  order  of  change  and  suffering 
we  know  and  conjuring  up  another  order  for  its  relief,  i.e.,  it  is 
the  offspring  of  subjective  need,  and  Nietzsche  distrusts  (at 
least  for  his  own  account)  constructions  that  come  from  any 
other  need  or  impulse  than  the  theoretic  or  knowing  one  itself.^^ 
Even  moral  needs  are  no  safe  basis  for  construction,  not  to 
speak  of  the  needs  of  happiness,  comfort,  or  inspiration.'* 

What  is  left,  then?  one  may  ask.  There  is  evidence  that 
Nietzsche  was  for  a time  in  sore  perplexity.  The  very  extreme 
of  skepticism  and  uncertainty  as  to  both  metaphysics  and  morals 
is  pictured  in  “The  Shadow”  in  Thus  spake  Zarathustra — 

“ Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 569  (the  ambiguity  in  this  passage  turns 
about  the  term  “ things,”  which  Nietzsche,  as  we  have  seen,  regards  as 
a subjective  fiction;  but  that  we  are  to  a certain  extent  passive  and 
acted  upon  is  implied  throughout). 

Nietzsclie  makes  a running  fire  on  both  “things  in  themselves” 
and  “ things,”  sometimes  misconstruing  what  Kant  meant  by  the  former 
himself  {ibid.,  §§  552-9;  cf.  § 473;  Joyful  Science,  § 354). 

Werke,  XII,  23,  § .39. 

" Cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  708,  585,  576. 


ULTIMATE  EEALITY  AS  WILL  TO  POWER 


191 


Nietzsche  had  been  that  shadow  and  had  said  to  himself  in  bitter 
irony:  “Nothing  is  true,  everything  is  permitted.*® ''  There  is 
nothing  in  things  that  we  have  not  'put  into  them,  science,  too, 
being  this  sort  of  child’s  play.*®  We  can  conceive  only  a world 
that  we  ourselves  have  made — if  it  appears  logical,  it  is  because 
we  have  logicized  it.“  There  are  no  facts,  only  interpretations ; 
we  cannot  fix  any  fact  in  itself — perhaps  it  is  absurd  to  wish 
to.®*  ^ We  have  no  organ  for  knowing  [in  the  strict  theoretic 
sense,  erken'nen'],  we  know  [“wisse-n,”  oder  glauben  oder  hilden 
uns  ein]  only  what  is  useful  for  our  human  herd  or  species — 
and  even  as  to  this  utility  we  only  have  a belief,  cherish  an 
imagination,  and  perhaps  a stupid  one  with  which  we  shall 
sometime  perish.®®  Such  are  some  of  the  extreme  expressions 
of  his  despairing  mood.  And  it  must  be  admitted  that  along 
the  ordinary  lines  of  objective  search  and  analysis  Nietzsche 
finds  no  way  of  meeting  the  skepticism.  Though  he  has  the 
general  idea  of  objective  reality,  he  cannot  give  any  content  to 
it.  Though  he  recognizes  certain  primitive  data  of  sensation  (or 
rather  of  stimulation),  these  data  are  so  primitive,  so  far  away 
from  anything  like  our  actual  world  in  which  data  and  inter- 
pretation are  inextricably  combined,  that  they  might  almost  as 
properly  be  designated  by  an  x or  an  interrogation  mark  as  the 
original  realities  themselves.  What  Nietzsche  really  now  does 
is  to  view  the  whole  problem  from  a new  angle.  And  here  I 
pass  to  the  fourth  point : — 


IV 

Reality  as  power  and  will  to  power.  Some  of  the  steps  by 
which  he  reached  this  conception  seem  to  be  these:  (1)  It  came 
over  him  at  times  that  his  fellow-men  were  different  from 
things  in  general.  Thoroughgoing  idealism  is  necessarily 
solipsistic.  If  we — each  of  us — think  that  nothing  exists  out- 
side our  sensations  and  thoughts,  then  our  fellow-beings  exist 
only  in  our  sensations  and  thoughts,  i.e.,  have  no  independent 
being  of  their  own;  and  though  this  might  not  matter  greatly, 

Zarathustra,  IV,  ix;  cf.  Genealogy  etc.,  Ill,  § 24. 

to  Power,  § 606;  cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §21. 

’‘'‘Will  to  Power,  §§  495,  521. 

Ibid.,  § 481. 

Joyful  Science,  § 354. 


192 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


so  far  as  each  other’s  bodies  are  concerned,  every  one  would 
probably  feel  that  to  make  his  thinking  or  feeling  dependent 
upon  the  thinking  and  feeling  of  another  was  absurd — indeed, 
no  clear-headed  person  will  assert  that  he  feels  another’s  feeling 
or  can,  or  that  another  can  feel  his  (we  can  only  reconstruct 
one  another’s  feelings  and  feel  them  in  imagination,  and  the 
same  is  true  of  thoughts).  Opposed  as  Nietzsche  was  in  a 
general  way  to  the  idea  of  “another  world,”  a “transcendent 
world,”  he  came  to  see  that,  strictly  speaking,  other  souls  were 
themselves  another  world,  a transcendent  world,  and  he  makes 
Zarathustra  say  so.^^  Once  he  formally  argues  the  matter:  “For 
a single  man  the  [independent]  reality  of  the  world  would  be 
without  probability,  but  for  two  it  becomes  probable.  That  is, 
the  other  man  is  an  imagination  of  ours,  entirely  our  ‘will,’ 
our  ‘idea’:  and  we  are  again  the  same  in  him.  But  because 
we  know  that  he  deceives  himself  about  us  [in  thinking  that  we 
are  simply  his  imagination]  and  that  we  are  a reality  despite 
the  phantom-picture  of  us  which  he  carries  in  his  head,  we 
conclude  that  he  too  is  a reality  despite  our  imagination  of 
him:  in  short,  that  realities  outside  us  exist.”  ^ (2)  Another 

line  of  reflection  came  to  him : Although  distinguishing  abso- 
lutely between  “true”  and  “false”  in  the  world  at  large  is 
a difficult  and  perhaps  impossible  thing,  setting  up  an  end 
ourselves  and  trying  to  make  thinks  go  that  way  is  another 
matter — and  it  is  what  every  strong  man  does  to  a greater  or 
lesser  extent,  indeed,  what  practically  every  one  tries  to  do.^^ 
The  very  arranging,  classifying,  interpreting,  valuing  of  the 
world  and  of  things  in  it,  about  the  objective  validity  of  which 
Nietzsche  is  in  doubt,  is  an  incident  to  this  end.  The  most 
wonderful  of  all  things  is  not  the  world  in  its  mystery,  or  the 
truths  or  values  about  which  we  dispute,  but  what  is  immediate 
and  best  proved,  our  own  willing,  valuing,  creative  selves.^® 
The  extraordinary  turn  is  accordingly  made  that  the  factor  the 
action  of  which  breeds  skepticism  as  to  our  possession  of  ob- 
jective truth,  viz.,  our  will  to  power  and  exercise  of  it,  is  that 
about  which  skepticism  is  impossible;  the  very  changing  of 

^^Zarathustra,  I,  iii ; III,  xii,  §4;  xiii,  §2. 

Werke,  XI,  180,  § 68. 

Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 605. 

" Zarathustra,  I,  iii. 


ULTIMATE  REALITY  AS  WILL  TO  POWER 


193 


things  which  it  works,  a change  so  complete  that  we  hardly 
know  whether  any  of  the  original  lineaments  of  things  are  left, 
is  a proof  of  its  reality.®^ 

Here  then  is  something  to  start  with.  Nietzsche  feels  this 
power  in  himself  and  thinks  that  it  is  really  the  bottom  thing 
in  him ; and  as  he  is  not  solipsist,  he  thinks  that  there  are  similar 
centers  of  power  in  other  men.  And  turning  his  thought  to  the 
world  at  large,  the  question  arises,  may  not  animals  and  plants 
and  even  insensate  things  he  centers  of  power  in  varying  meas- 
ures and  ways?  May  not  the  world  in  its  real  being  be  made 
up,  not  of  “things,”  substances,  subjects,  egos,  atoms,  causes 
and  effects,  spatial  quantities  and  movements,  but  of  these  centers 
of  power  more  or  less  conflicting  and  struggling  with  one  an- 
other ?®**  Each  being  a will  to  power  seeks  to  prevail,  and  is 
only  prevented  by  others  which  want  to  do  the  same ; each  esti- 
mates all  that  is  outside  from  its  own  standpoint,  and  to  the 
extent  it  is  conscious,  builds  up  a world  accordingly — images, 
concepts,  categories,  and  all ; each  is  real  and  its  created  world 
is  real  (at  least,  till  another  center  of  power  puts  an  end  to 
one  or  the  other  or  both),  and  this  is  what  and  all  that  reality 
means.”  The  question  as  to  the  truth  of  the  estimates  or  images 
or  concepts,  save  as  it  is  a question  of  what  each  can  make  good 
or  can  successfully  act  by,  is  irrelevant  and  without  meaning, 
since  estimations,  images,  concepts  only  exist  in  relation  to  the 
power  which  creates  them  and  seeks  to  effectuate  itself  by  their 
aid.  Sensations,  or  rather  the  stimuli  to  which  we  react  with 
sensations,  become  then  construable,  as  a part  of  the  effect  which 
some  outside  center  of  power  makes  upon  us — it  is  a kind  of 
signal  that  another  power  is  there.  By  the  sensations,  the 
memories  we  keep  of  them,  and  the  ordered  picture  of  the  world 
we  draw  up,  we  know  a little  better  how  to  act  in  relation  to 
these  unseen  friends  or  foes.  It  is,  however,  only  in  the  initial 
semi-physical  contact  that  we  are  in  direct,  first-hand  relation 
to  them,  and  our  sensations  themselves  need  not  have  the  slight- 
est resemblance  to  the  original  realities.^^ '' 

" “ Tlie  ‘falseness’  in  things  is  to  be  explained  as  result  of  our 
creative  force ! ” ( Werke,  XIV,  269,  § 39 ) . 

Cf,  Will  to  Power,  § 635  (not  things,  but  dynamic  quantities,  in 
relations  of  tension  to  one  another,  their  essence  consisting  in  the  rela- 
tions, in  the  mutual  interaction). 

” Cf.  Ihid.,  § 569. 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


iP'i 


V 

Such  is  the  construction  which  Nietzsche  offers  in  its  most 
general  terms.  It  is  an  hypothesis  purely — he  so  speaks  of  it.™ 
To  take  it  as  a dogma  is  to  misconceive  it  and  miss  its  value 
(whatever  value  it  has).  It  is  something  to  mull  over — and 
then  to  accept  or  no  according  as  it  seems  to  cover  the  ground 
and  meet  theoretic  requirements.  {Other  requirements  have  to 
be  left  out  of  account  by  one  who  takes  up  the  problem  in  Nietz- 
sche’s spirit.)  I shall  be  content  in  what  follows  if  I can  make 
the  hypothesis  reasonably  clear. 

In  the  first  place,  “will  to  power”  is  a theoretic  proposi- 
tion. By  many  it  is  taken  as  an  ethical  standard  (and  rather 
a brutal  one)  ; but  primarily  it  is  with  Nietzsche  an  analysis 
or  interpretation  of  reality — a view  as  to  its  last  elements.®^ 
Secondly,  it  is  manifest  that  it  is  not  merely  power  on  a 
physical  level  that  is  in  his  mind ; indeed,  it  may  be  questioned 
whether  the  discovery  that  instincts  of  power  lie  behind  a large 
range  of  mental  operations  and  also  play  an  important  part  in 
the  varying  moralities  of  men,  did  not  contribute  as  much  as 
anything  else  to  the  formation  of  the  view.  Further,  the  view 
is  relatively  new  in  his  intellectual  history.  It  is,  in  a sense, 
metaphysical  and  stands  in  contrast  with  the  purely  critical  and 
positivistic  attitude  of  his  middle  period.®  Then  he  had  spoken 
of  the  idea  that  will  is  the  essence  of  things  as  “primitive 
mythology”;’’'  now  he  is  ready  to  argue  from  analogy,  and 
frankly  takes  man  as  his  starting-point.®  One  might  almost  call 
it  a return  to  the  metaphysics  of  his  first  period,  except  that 
now  he  is  less  assured  of  the  subjectivity  of  space  and  time 
(time  at  least  he  asserts  to  be  objective),  and  the  will  is  many, 
not  one — the  Primal  Will  (Urwille),  that  eases  itself  of  its  pain 
by  looking  at  itself  objectively  and  so  creating  the  world,  being 
left  out  of  account.  The  view  might  be  described  as  Pluralistic 
Voluntarism.*  The  question  of  the  origin  of  the  many  wills  is 

«» lUd.,  § 869. 

Nietzsche’s  projected  book  had  originally  as  its  full  title  Der  Wille 
zur  Macht,  eine  Auslegung  alles  Geschehens  {Werke,  pocket  ed.,  IX,  xiii. ). 

See  Lou  Andreas-Salomg’s  apt  remarks  on  this  subject  (op.  cit., 
p.  139). 

Will  to  Power,  § 619. 


ULTIMATE  REALITY  AS  WILL  TO  POWER 


195 


not  even  raised — so  that,  if  Schopenhauer’s  system  is  meta- 
physics in  the  second  or  highest  degree,  Nietzsche’s  is  so  only 
in  the  first ; “ still  it  is  metaphysics  so  far  as  this  means  a 
transcending  of  experience  and  the  phenomenal  realm  in 
general.  Certain  positivist  writers  regard  Nietzsche  as  going 
backward — reversing  in  his  procedure  Comte’s  law  of  the  three 
stages.® 

The  starting-point  is,  as  I have  said,  man.  The  bottom 
thing  in  him  is  his  impulsive,  willing  nature.  Each  impulse, 
indeed,  would  rule  if  it  could — the  human  problem  being  to 
establish  an  order  of  rank  or  precedence  between  them.  Mind 
itself  is  of  a commanding  nature — wants  to  rule.®  Philosophy, 
which  seeks  to  arrange,  grasp,  comprehend  the  world  and  estab- 
lish values  in  it,  is  the  most  sublimated  form  of  the  will  to 
power.®  One  who  thinks  that  philosophy  has  nothing  to  do 
with  power  should  grapple  with  a philosophical  problem,  or 
with  Nietzsche  himself — and  see  whether  power  is  needed. 
Nietzsche  regards  the  scientific  specialist  as  a tool — a precious 
one,  one  of  the  most  precious  that  exists — but  a tool  in  the  hands 
of  one  more  powerful  than  he,  the  philosopher.  The  philosopher 
is  the  Caesarian  trainer  and  strong  man  of  culture.®  The  saint 
is  interpreted  in  similar  terms.  He  is  commonly  thought  to 
turn  his  back  on  power,  but  he  is  a supreme  type  of  power,  and 
of  the  will  to  it,  according  to  Nietzsche.  He  is  revered  by  the 
mightiest — why?  Because,  Nietzsche  answers,  they  feel  in 
presence  of  one  of  their  own  kind — whose  power,  however,  turns 
inward  rather  than  outward.®  Even  love  is  an  exercise  of 
power — it  gives  the  highest  feeling  of  power;  and  Jesus,  in 
telling  his  disciples  to  call  no  one  master,  really  recommended 
a very  proud  life  under  the  form  of  a poor  and  serving  one.™ 
Nietzsche  thinks  that  the  sense  of  power  is  what  in  varying 
form  .we  aircra^'“ffi^  the  love  of  power  is  a central,  universal 
instinct:  he  defines  psychology  as  a doctrine  of  the  development 

**  This  is  the  distinction  made  by  Richter,  op.  cit.,  p.  283. 

" Zoccoli,  Lasserre,  and  others,  as  reported  by  Milgge,  Friedrich 
Nietzsche:  His  Life  and  Work  (3d  ed.),  p.  316. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §§  6,  230. 

"/bid.,  §§  9,  211. 

Ibid.,  § 207. 

Cf.  ibid.,  § 51. 

” Will  to  Power,  §§  176,  169. 


196 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


of  the-  will  to  power  and  of  the  forms  it  takesJ^  Such  is  his 
analysis  of  human  nature. 

But  the  driving  force  which  he  finds  in  us,  he  thinks  he  sees 
traces  of,  though  in  simpler  form,  in  the  lower  ranges  of  life. 
Indeed  in  ourselves  it  is  something  more  elemental  than  con- 
scious choice  or  than  consciousness  itself.  It  becomes  conscious 
on  occasion,  but  itself  lies  deeper,  and  in  a more  or  less  un- 
conscious form  Nietzsche  imagines  that  it  exists  in  animals  and 
plants,  and  indeed  wherever  there  is  activity.’'  He  does  not 
attempt  to  demonstrate  this  inference — he  attempts  no  demon- 
stration even  of  the  primacy  of  will  in  man,  he  has  not  unsaid 
his  old  criticism  of  Schopenhauer  to  the  effect  that  we  have  no 
real  first-hand  knowledge  of  will : it  is  all,  whether  as  regards 

man  or  as  regards  lower  beings,  hypothesis,  a view  without 
pretense  to  certainty,  speculation,  as  perhaps  any  kind  of  meta- 
physics must  be. 

VI 

Let  me  give  the  interpretation  in  still  further  detail — be- 
ginning with  the  lowest  forms  of  existence.^^  Physical  motion, 
for  example,  is  a subjective  phenomenon — an  alteration  in  our 
sensations : the  reality  in  the  case  is  a change  in  the  relations 
of  two  or  more  centers  of  power — a change  that  is  symbolically 
revealed  to  us,  being  translated  into  the  sign-language  of  eye 
and  touch.^*  The  world  of  mechanics  in  general  is  sign-language 
[unmeaning  and  unexistent  apart  from  us  or  beings  like  us] 
for  will-quanta  struggling  with  one  another,  some  perhaps  tem- 
porarily overcoming  [which  are  real,  quite  independent  of  us].'^^ 
The  unintelligible  “forces,”  “attractions,”  and  “repulsions” 
which  physicists  speak  of  get  concreteness  and  meaning,  con- 
strued as  kindred  to  impulses  in  ourselves;  they  reach  out  to 
control  or  they  repel  foreign  control  much  as  we  do.^®  The  same 

Morphologic  und  Entwicklungslehre  des  Willens  zur  Macht” 

( Beyond  Oood  and  Evil,  § 23 ) . 

’“He  rather  reasserts  it  (Will  to  Power,  §§  475-8).  Richter,  op.  cit., 
p.  274,  comments  on  the  difficulty  presented  by  these  varying  views. 

’*Cf.  the  language  of  Will  to  Power,  §712. 

” Will  to  Power,  §§  625,  634,  689  (motion  erne  Bilderrede,  mechanics 
eine  blosse  Bemiotik) . 

Ibid.,  § 689. 

'“Ibid..  §619. 


ULTIMATE  REALITY  AS  WILL  TO  POWi. 


may  be  said  of  chemical  action  and  reaction,  which  are  ai. 
of  a specific  character — the  element  of  preference  or  choi^ 
[according  to  the  nature  of  the  elements  in  question]  cannot  be 
left  out  of  account  in  explaining  them/^  “Qualities”  are  the 
expression  [sensations  in  us]  of  definite  kinds  of  action  and 
reaction,  and  Nietzsche  suggests  that  quantity  may  be  the  out- 
come of  quality  [of  the  objective  counterpart  of  quality] — the 
center  of  power  wishing  to  become  more,  to  grow,  to  attain 
greater  sizeJ®  ^ Causality  appears  in  a new  light.  How,  we  ask, 
can  two  contrasted  things,  such  as  mind  or  will  in  us  and  an 
object  outside  us,  affect  one  another?  Nietzsche’s  view  makes 
them  fundamentally  alike — will  acts  on  will  everywhere,  not  on 
something  foreign  to  it.’^  Moreover,  causality  is  not  so  much  a 
relation  of  succession,  as  a working  in  and  upon  one  another  of 
two  powers  or  wills,  with  its  natural  and  inevitable  result,  either 
of  a compromise,  or  of  conquest  on  one  side  and  subjection  on 
the  other.  There  is  no  cause  and  effect  in  the  sense  of  an  ante- 
cedent and  consequent,  nor  is  there  a transference  of  energy 
from  one  thing  to  another,  but  rather  a measuring  up  of  forces 
against  one  another  and  a result — and  this  is  why  cause  and 
effect,  as  ordinarily  conceived,  are  rated  a fiction,  equally  with 
“substance,”  “atom,”  and  the  rest.®®  Further,  the  ordinary 
idea  of  causality  is  of  an  unending  process  of  change,  an  effect 
once  reached  becoming  the  cause  of  another  effect  and  so  on. 
But  why,  Nietzsche  asks,  need  this  be  so,  why  might  not  a state 
once  reached  continue  indefinitely,  why  would  not  the  impulse 
of  self-preservation  itself  tend  that  way — why,  unless  aside 
from  self-preservation  there  is  an  instinct  in  every  living  thing 
to  be  more  and  greater,  to  expand  and  enlarge  itself,  in  short 
an  instinct  for  power  and  domination  ? 

Peculiarly  interesting  is  the  revision  of  biological  notions 
that  ensues.  Mere  self-preservation  is  not  the  life-instinct 
proper.®^  The  will  of  living  creatures  is  a special  case  of  will 
to  power.  It  is  a will,  however,  not  only  to  dominate’  (this  all 

” Hid.,  § 636. 

” Ihid.,  § 564. 

'"‘Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 36;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  490,  554,  658. 

’•>Will  to  Power,  §§  631,  338,  617. 
lUd.,  § 688. 

^‘‘Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 13;  Will  to  Power,  §§  650-1. 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


cr  strives  for),  but  to  dominate  by  incorporating,  by  making 
.lie  foreign  substance  of  power  an  integral,  though  subordinate, 
part  of  itself.®^  This  is  manifest  in  hunger  and  the  overt  acts 
of  seizure — the  living  thing  perhaps  takes  more  than  it  can 
actually  appropriate.®^  Exploiting,  stealing  belongs  thus  to  its 
nature.  Accordingly  life  is  radically  misconceived  when  it  is 
taken  as  mere  adaptation  to  environment;  “adaptation”  is 
something  secondary — is  reaction,  while  life  is  action,  activity 
itself  (self-activity,  one  might  say,  though  Nietzsche  does  not 
use  the  phrase — he  does  say  “spontaneous”  activity) — activity 
positive,  aggressing,  an  “attacking,  encroaching,  freshly-inter- 
preting, freshly-directing  and  shaping”  force.®^  To  be  con- 
trolled by  outer  conditions,  or  mere  accommodation  to  them, 
is,  for  Nietzsche,  a sign  of  decadence — he  thinks  that  Darwin 
and  Spencer  both  overvalue  outer  conditions  in  their  view  of 
life.®®  Indeed,  as  he  conceives  the  matter,  life  wants  opposing 
outside  forces — wants  them  to  feel  its  power  over  them.  In 
this  way  he  interprets  the  pseudopodia  of  lower  forms  of  life: 
the  living  substance  is  reaching  out  after  something  on  which 
to  expend  its  power,  and  appropriation  is  merely  the  conse- 
quence.®^ And  when  it  appropriates  more  than  it  can  really 
control,  it  proceeds  to  divide  itself — as  two,  it  can  still  control. 
There  is,  however,  no  “altruism”  in  the  process.  As  “nourish- 
ment” is  something  secondary,  the  original  impulse  being  simply 
the  will  to  close  in  on  whatever  is  at  hand,  so  self-division  or 
propagation  is  equally  derived — where  one  will  does  not  suffice 
to  organize  what  has  been  appropriated,  another  arises.®® 
Structure,  organization,  is  another  result : it  is  necessary  to  the 
end  of  disposing  of  what  has  been  appropriated — its  meaning 
is  arranging,  ordering,  putting  in  place  to  the  end  of 
dominance  and  use.®®  Incident  to  all  life  is  power  that  com- 
mands and  power  that  obeys — whatever  does  not  command  must 
Will  to  Power,  § 681. 

Hunger  to  merely  replace  what  has  been  lost  Nietzsche  puts  In  a 
secondary  place  {ibid.,  §§  651-2,  656). 

80  CrPvipnli^n'U  pfo  TT  SIP 

"»Cf.  Wiil  to  Power,  '§§  44,  49,  70,  71,  647,  681;  Werlce,  XIV,  215, 
§§  4.32-3. 

" Will  to  Power,  §§  656,  702,  694. 

*•  Will  to  Power,  §§  653-7.  Cf.  the  comments  on  Guyau,  Werke,  XIII, 

113. 

••Ibid.,  § 642. 


ULTIMATE  REALITY  AS  WILL  TO  POWER  199 


obey,  i.e,,  be  used,  become  subservient  “ Here  is  tbe  founda- 
tion for  the  distinction  between  means  and  end  in  an  organism. 
The  superior  power  overcomes  the  lesser,  incorporates  it,  gives 
it  its  place,  making  it  a means  to  its  own  end.®^  Hence  the 
definition  of  an  organ — something  that  would  otherwise  be  inde- 
pendent is  turned  into  a means,  an  instrumentality.  For  exam- 
ple, something  that  happens  to  be  more  or  less  suitable  becomes 
an  eye  for  the  organism,  something  else  a foot  or  hand,  some- 
thing else  still  apparatus  for  digestion,  and  so  on;®®  they  may 
not  have  been  formed  for  these  purposes,  but  the  superior 
power  turns  them  to  account  in  these  ways,'^'^  just  as  one  man 
may  make  others  his  slaves  or  as  the  state  may  convert  this 
or  that  individual  into  its  tool  or  agent.'^'^  Wherever  we  find  a 
thing  that  serves  a purpose  and  is  useful,  “a  will  to  power 
has  made  itself  master  of  something  less  powerful,  and  of  its 
own  motion  has  stamped  the  meaning  of  a function  upon 
it.”®® 

If  we  do  not  read  the  organic  world  in  terms  of  power, 
i.e.,  of  controller  and  controlled,  of  master  and  servant,  there 
is  little  sense  in  speaking  of  organs,  functions.  The  very 
“meaning”  of  a thing  implies  that  a superior  power  has  got 
control  of  it  and  given  it  a place  in  relation  to  its  own  ends. 
The  meaning  may  have  nothing  to  do  with  its  origin  or  essence 
— a thing  may  in  the  course  of  time  have  various  meanings, 
depending  on  the  nature  of  the  power  that  gets  control  of  it. 
Accordingly,  the  “evolution”  of  a thing  (whether  an  organ 
of  a body  or  a custom  of  society)  is  by  no  means  necessarily 
progress  toward  a goal  prefigured  in  its  nature,  still  less  a 
logical  movement  along  the  shortest  lines  and  accomplished 
with  the  least  expenditure  of  force,  but  rather  a succession 
of  processes  of  subjugation  which  it  undergoes,  the  changes 
going  more  or  less  deep  and  having  no  necessary  connection 
with  one  another — to  which  may  be  added  its  own  resistances, 
attempts  at  change  of  form  in  self-defense,  and  any  successes 

Ibid.,  § 492 ; cf.  Zarathustra,  II,  xii. 

Will  to  Power,  § 552. 

I need  not  say  that  a view  like  this  does  not  exclude  more  or  less 
development  and  reshaping  in  detail. 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 12  (Nietzsche  explains  that  this  holds  good 
of  a legal  institution,  a social  custom,  a political  practice,  a religious 
form,  or  an  eye  or  a hand). 


200 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


it  may  win.  The  form  changes,  flows,  and  the  “meaning,” 
purpose,  still  more  so.  Even  in  an  individual  organism  it  is 
not  otherwise:  with  every  essential  growth  of  the  whole,  the 
“meaning”  of  single  parts  shifts  also — under  given  conditions, 
a partial  perishing  of  some  parts,  a reduction  in  the'  number  of 
others  (for  example,  an  elimination  of  intermediate  organs) 
may  be  proof  of  the  growing  power  and  perfection  of  the  whole. 
In  other  words,  degeneration,  losing  of  meaning  and  purpose, 
or  death,  may  belong  to  the  conditions  of  actual  progress — 
something  that  ever  appears  in  the  form  of  a will  and  way  to 
greater  power  and  is  accomplished  at  the  expense  of  numberless 
lesser  powers.  The  greatness  of  an  advance  may,  indeed,  be 
measured  by  the  amount  of  what  is  sacrificed  to  it.  For  ex- 
ample, the  mass  of  mankind  sacrificed  to  the  growth  of  a single, 
higher,  stronger  species  of  man — that  would  be  an  advance.®^ 
This  relation  of  controller  and  controlled  (in  whatever 
form  of  organic  life)  involves  what  Nietzsche  calls  an  order  of 
rank  (Rangordnung) . It  is  a conception  that  plays  a great 
part  in  his  social  speculations;  but  it  originates  in  the  general 
biological  field.®^  The  human  body  itself  involves  an  order  of 
rank;  there  are  higher  and  lower  in  it,  ends  and  means — it  is 
teleologically  constituted,  though  the  teleology  comes  not  from 
God  or  from  a vague  thing  called  Nature,  but  is  established  by 
the  supreme  controlling  force  in  the  body  itself.  Nietzsche 
speaks  of  the  “lower  world”  in  the  body  and  of  “the  higher 
functions  and  functionaries  for  ruling,  anticipating,  predeter- 
mining,”— for  “our  organism  is  oligarchically  arranged.”®® 
The  mind  is  a part  of  the  ruling,  determining  forces,  and  an 
instrument  for  accomplishing  that  on  which  they  are  bent. 
Every  center  of  power  in  a sense  measures  and  estimates  other 
power  outside  it,  but  when  this  is  done  in  clear  consciousness, 
the  measuring  may  be  surer  and  more  effective.®^  In  the  de- 
velopment of  mind  and  consciousness,  the  need  of  communica- 
tion between  those  with  common  interests  plays  an  important 
part.  Mind  grows  in  intercourse  and  with  reference  to  the 
needs  of  intercourse — hence  also  the  limitations  of  conscious- 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 12. 

Will  to  Power,  § 552. 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 1. 

On  consciousness  as  a tool,  cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  G43-4,  646. 


201 


ULTImME  reality  as  will  to  power 

ness-  we  sec  communicable  with  greater  dis- 

tinctness than  the*  altof  he™.dividual  and  specific  (e.g,  our 
individual  acts  and  expef^Ki^ces,  which  may  be  incommunica- 
ble).^^ But  consciousness  is  end  in.  itself,  but  a means 

to  the  heightening  of  powerJ^^^^A^^^^^^che  even  suggests  that 
there  may  be  an  oligarchy  in  the  itself,  there  being  not 
necessarily  one  subject  there,  as  several, 

the  play  and  struggle  between  them  makilS  ^^e  hidden  basis 
of  our  thinking  and  consciousness — or,  to  physical 

terms,  there  may  be  an  aristocracy  of  cell#,o-v?jti&’!5®ssals  more 
or  less  obedient.^*®  dnoo ^ 

Nietzsche  has  interesting  refiections  on  will  to'powad  '^^* 
volving  pleasure  and  pain — pleasure  resting  on  the  inotea^®^ 
power,  pain  consisting  in  the  feeling  of  weakness  but"  IniraikL 

merely  refer  to  them.*^^  ' rj 

Will  to  power  also  lies  behind  thought  or  philosophy,  ag" 
already  explained.  It  too  is  a kind'of  appropriation,  mastery. 
Thinking  is  only  a sublimated  action  of  the  same  forces  mani- 
fested in  the  amoeba.  Man  seeks  to  turn  all  that  is  into  some- 
thing like  himself,  to  make  it  thinkable,  visible,  feelable — he 
subjects  it  to  categories  and  turns  it  into  his  own  substance,  as 
the  amoeba  does  foreign  material  into  its  own  body.^®^®® 

There  is  only  one  higher  expression  of  the  will  to  power  and 
that  is  in  the  saint  (in  the  nobler  meaning  of  the  term),  the 
hero-saint,  who  does  not  turn  his  back  on  the  world,  but  im- 
presses the  image  of  his  highest  thought  upon  it  and  transforms 
it — who  knows,  thinks,  only  to  love  and  in  love  to  act,  to 
create.’^’^ 

So  does  Nietzsche  interpret  the  whole  gamut  of  things  in 
terms  of  power  and  will  to  it." 

Joyful  Science,  § 354;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  569,  524. 

Will  to  Power,  § 711. 

Ihid.,  §§  490,  492. 

§ 693;  cf.  §§  428,  657,  670. 

Zarathustra,  II,  ii;  cf.  xii;  Will  to  Power,  §§501,  510-1. 


'ill  Jo, ^ HI  " 

XVI 

-;i  ba'iia  9. 

CRITICI3]\|(j6yPj^pRALITY.  INTRODUCTORY 
(iJ  SKiiLen.- 

jilv  98(j  oJ  ■ * 

It  waa  .aiiiBajiiilig/of  Goethe  that  a bold  and  free  work  of  art 
should  be  contemplated  in  the  spirit  in  which  it  was  orig- 
inal’ conceived.  This  is  something  to  have  in  mind  as  we  turn 
aslietesche’s  final  ethical  and  social  views — perhaps  the  most 
xdianacteristic  product  of  his  genius.  He  is  daring,  loves  strong 
and  telling  expressions,  easily  exaggerates  or  seems  to — and  if 
Ve  do  not  make  allowances,  we  may  often  be  offended  and  think 
it  hardly  worth  while  to  give  him  the  attentive  study  he  re- 
quires. We  need  for  the  moment  to  be  touched  with  a little 
of  his  own  geniality,  and  to  exercise  toward  him  something  of 
the  persistent  “good  will”  which  Emerson  says  gives  “insight.” 
He  speaks  as  freely  about  himself  as  about  other  subjects.  Once 
after  noting  that  every  society  has  a tendency  to  caricature  its 
opponents,  as  we  do  today  the  “criminal,”  as  Roman  aristo- 
cratic society  did  the  Jew,  as  artists  do  the  bourgeois  type,  as 
pious  people  do  the  man  who  is  godless,  and  aristocrats  the  man 
of  the  people,  he  says  that  immoralists — his  class — incline  to 
caricature  the  moralist  and  gives  as  an  instance  his  own  refer- 
ences to  Plato.’  Plainly  we  must  read  between  the  lines  and 
not  press  every  word  in  dealing  with  such  a man. 

I begin  with  the  ethical  views.  The  material  to  be  consid- 
ered falls  naturally  under  two  heads:  criticism  and  construc- 
tion. Constructive  effort  is  much  more  pronounced  in  this 
period  than  in  the  preceding,  and  yet  criticism  continues — 
indeed,  it  is  more  keen  and  mordant  than  ever.  The  two 
things  really  go  hand  in  hand,  and  even  his  construction  is  not 
as  complete — or  even  as  unmistakable  in  meaning — as  we  could 
wish ; his  end  came  too  early  to  allow  him  to  leave  more  than 
torsos  in  any  department  of  thought.  The  consideration  of 

* Will  to  Poiver,  § 374. 

202 


CRITICISM  OF  MORALITY.  INTRODUCTORY  203 


the  criticism  will  require  several  chapters,  the  present  one  being 
a kind  of  introduction  to  the  general  subject. 

II 

Nietzsche  notes  that  modern  Europe  (really  the  Western 
world  in  general)  is  in  a kind  of  chaos  as  to  moral  conceptions. 
The  old  morality  was  built  on  the  God-idea,  and  this  is  passing 
away — indeed  is  already  dead,^  i.e.,  for  the  intellectual  circles 
of  which  he  tabes  account.  It  is  naive  to  think  that  the  morality 
can  long  remain  when  the  sanctioning  God  is  lacking — the 
“beyond”  being  necessary,  if  belief  in  it  is  to  be  unimpaired.* 
We  are  in  a “moral  interregum”* — Nietzsche  might  have  as- 
sented to  Matthew  Arnold’s  language,  describing  us  as  wan- 
derers between  two  worlds,  one  dead,  the  other  powerless  to  be 
born.  The  dissolving  of  the  old  morality  is  leading  to  the 
atomistic  individual  as  a practical  consequence,  and  even  fur- 
ther— to  the  breaking  up  of  the  individual  himself,  so  that  he 
becomes  several  things'  rather  than  one;  a state  of  absolute 
flux.®  Superficial  critics  think  that  this  is  a result  in  which 
Nietzsche  found  satisfaction,  being  opposed  to  “all  ideals  and 
all  faith”;®  but  he  calls  it  “something  fearful.”  The  passage 
in  which  he  says  this  is  worth  quoting : “I  see  something  fearful 
ahead — chaos  in  the  first  instance,  everything  fiuid.  Nothing 
that  has  value  in  itself,  nothing  that  commands  “Thou 
oughtst.”  It  is  a condition  of  things  not  to  be  borne;  to  the 
spectacle  of  this  destruction  we  must  oppose  creation;  to  these 
wandering  aims  we  must  oppose  one  aim — create  it.  ” ^ The 
passage  paraphrased  immediately  before  ends,  “On  this  ac- 
count an  aim  is  now  more  needed  than  ever  and  love,  a new 
love.” 

Nietzsche  gives  several  illustrations  of  the  existing  chaos. 
Here  is  one  man  for  whom  a morality  is  proved  by  its  utility, 

^Joyful  Science,  § 343. 

• ~Will  to  Poicer,  § 253. 

* Dawn  of  Day,  § 452. 

= Werke,  XII,  358,  § 674. 

“ For  example,  Paul  Elmer  More,  op.  eit.,  p.  66.  Cf.  Nietzsche’s 
language  with  regard  to  eternal  recurrence,  “ I teach  you  redemption 
from  the  eternal  flux”  (Werke,  XII,  369,  § 723). 

■ Werke,  XII,  358-9,  § 675.  Nietzsche  had  noted  the  mere  fact  of 
varying  standards  earlier  (without  urging  a corrective  as  now),  see 
e.g.,  ibid.,  XI,  193-8. 


204 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


and  there  one  for  whom  a morality  is  refuted,  if  its  origin  in 
utility  is  shown.®  Now  an  action  is  held  in  esteem  because  it 
comes  hard  to  the  doer,  and  now  one  because  it  is  done  easily ; 
one  action  is  valued  because  it  is  unusual,  another  because  it  is 
customary;  one,  because  a man  thereby  shows  his  regard  for 
his  best  good,  another  because  he  does  not  think  of  himself  at 
all ; one  because  it  is  duty,  another  because  it  is  inclination ; one 
because  it  is  instinct,  another  because  it  is  clearest  reason.® 
There  is  another  list  of  contrarieties,  covering  somewhat  the 
same  ground,  but  adding  the  following  particulars:  we  call  a 
mild  conciliatory  person  good,  but  also  one  who  is  brave,  un- 
bending, and  strict ; we  call  the  unconditional  friend  of  truth 
good,  but  also  the  man  of  piety  who  transfigures  things;  we 
call  one  who  obeys  himself  good,  but  also  one  who  is  devout; 
we  call  the  superior,  the  noble  man  good,  but  also  one  who 
does  not  despise  or  look  down;  we  call  a good-natured  man, 
one  who  avoids  strife  good,  but  also  one  who  is  eager  for 
strife  and  victory;  we  call  one  who  will  ever  be  first  good, 
but  also  one  who  wishes  no  precedence  over  others.^®  ^n 
other  words,  there  are  dilferent  moralities  in  us  today, 
different  standards  and  ideas  of  good.”  And  not  only  do  men 
disagree  with  one  another,  but  individuals  disagree  with  them- 
selves, now  judging  from  one  standard  of  valuation  and 
now  from  another.*®  We  are  really  a kind  of  mishmash  (this 
is  to  Nietzsche  one  of  the  characteristic  marks  of  modernity)  — 
we  are  so  intellectually  and  we  are  perhaps  so  physically,  dif- 
fering races  and  old-time  social  castes  being  mingled  in  us.  We 
are  not  without  moral  feeling,  we  have  an  immense  fund  of  it, 
immense  force,  but  no  common  aim  in  the  pursuit  of  which  this 
may  be  turned  to  account.*®^  How  to  transcend  the  present 
moral  anarchy  becomes  a driving  motive  with  Nietzsche,  par- 
ticularly in  this  last  period  of  his  life. 

* Dawn  of  Day,  § 230. 

» Werke,  XI,  195,  § 100. 

Ihid.,  XII,  81,  § 157. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 215. 

” Will  to  Power,  § 259. 

Werke,  XIII,  358,  § 673;  cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 20C. 


CRITICISM  OF  MORALITY.  INTRODUCTORY  205 


III 

First,  however,  and  all  the  more  because  of  this  ultimate 
aim,  he  feels  the  need  of  moral  criticism — a path  on  which,  as 
we  have  seen,  he  started  in  his  previous  period.  He  turns 
morality,  the  whole  circle  of  conceptions  involved,  into  a 
problem.  In  taking  this  attitude  he  is  unusual,  if  not  unique.'’ 
The  common  view  is  that  morality  is  something  given,  self- 
evident,  at  least  easily  made  so,  that  the  real  difficulties  are 
with  practice;  or  that,  if  there  are  theoretic  difficulties,  these 
are  simply  in  finding  an  adequate  formula  or  adequate  “basis” 
for  something,  the  obligation  of  which  is  unquestionable.  Kant 
and  Schopenhauer  take  this  view — Professor  Simmel  particu- 
larly notes  Nietzsche’s  difference  from  them  in  that  he  does  not 
limit  himself  to  the  task  of  codifying  moral  demands  com- 
monly recognized.'^  Dr.  Dolson  also  comments  on  the  striking 
difference  between  Nietzsche  and  most  ethical  writers  in  this 
respect.'®  Schopenhauer  had  cited  neminem  laede,  immo  omnes, 
quantum  potes,  juva  as  if  it  were  a rule  which  nobody  ques- 
tioned and  about  which  all  moral  philosophers  are  agreed ; 
Nietzsche  regards  him  as  naive.'®  He  regards  Kant  and  Hegel 
also  as  uncritical.  Kant  wrote,  indeed,  the  “Critique  of  Prac- 
tical Reason,”  but  it  is  not  criticism  in  the  sense  in  which 
Nietzsche  feels  that  there  is  need  of  it — Kant  took  our  ordinary 
morality,  even  Rousseau’s  extreme  democratic  formulation  of 
it,  for  granted,  he  did  not  skeptically  inquire  into  it.  Hegel’s 
criticism  did  not  touch  the  moral  ideal  itself,  but  only  asked 
whence  comes  the  opposition  to  it,  why  it  has  not  been  attained 
or  is  not  demonstrable  in  small  and  great.'^  Spinoza  did  ques- 
tion the  finality  of  the  moral  valuations,  but  it  was  indirectly 
only  and  as  a consequence  of  his  theodicy.'®  English  Utilitarian- 
ism looked  critically  into  the  origin  of  the  moral  valuations, 
but  it  none  the  less  believed  in  them  as  implicitly  as  the  Chris- 
tian does.'®  Our  latest  moral  investigators,  says  Nietzsche,  are 

**  Georg  Simmel,  Schopenhauer  und  Nietzsche,  pp.  230-1. 

“ Op.  cit.,  p.  97. 

'^'‘Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 186;  cf.  Werke,  XIII,  106. 

Will  to  Power,  § 253. 

Ibid.,  § 410. 

§ 253. 


206 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


thoroughly  convinced  that  science  has  here  only  to  explore  a 
matter  of  fact,  not  to  criticise.^" 

The  vital  omission  of  these  investigators  and  historians  of 
morality  is  that  they  do  not  ask  what  it  is  worth,  and  hence 
what  binding  quality  it  has  for  us  today.  Ethics  is  a question  of 
norms ; it  means  what  we  should  do — it  cannot  be  reduced  to  a 
set  of  historical  or  psychological  propositions.  And  where  the 
vital  question  is  envisaged,  Nietzsche  feels  that  the  reasoning 
is  apt  to  be  superficial.  A consensus  of  peoples,  or  at  least 
of  civilized  peoples,  as  to  certain  points  in  morality  is  asserted, 
and  hence,  it  is  argued,  it  is  unconditionally  binding  on  you 
and  me ; or,  on  the  other  hand,  the  differences  in  the  valuations 
of  different  peoples  are  pointed  out,  and  the  conclusion  is 
drawn  that  there  is  nothing  obligatory  about  morality  at  all. 
Both  proceedings  are  childishness.  The  worth  of  a prescrip- 
tion “thou  oughtst”  is  independent  of  opinion  about  it,  as 
truly  as  the  worth  of  a medicament  is  independent  of  whether 
one  thinks  scientifically  or  like  an  old  woman  about  medicine. 
A morality  could  grow  out  of  an  error,  and  with  such  an 
insight  the  problem  of  its  value  would  not  even  be  touched.^^ 
Even  the  general  principle  “we  must  act  and  hence  must  have 
a rule  of  action,”  cannot  be  taken  for  granted;  the  Buddhists 
said,  “we  must  not  act,”  and  thought  out  a way  of  deliverance 
from  action  [a  way  to  nirvana]P  For  Nietzsche  morality  is 
thus  problem  from  top  to  bottom.  The  idea  that  it  constitutes 
a realm  where  doubt  is  impossible,  one  indeed  in  which  we  may 
take  refuge  when  doubt  is  assailing  us  in  all  other  spheres — 
this  idea  that  has  played  no  small  part  in  the  spiritual  experi- 
ence of  earnest  men  in  recent  times — is  to  his  mind  without 
warrant.  There  is  no  helping  it — we  must  extend  skeptical 
inquiry  and  critical  reflection  to  morality  itself.*^ 

What  particularly  presses  in  this  direction  is  the  fact  of 
varying  types  of  morality  in  the  world  [not  “types  of  ethical 
theory’^  merely,  or  principally]  between  which  we  must  choose. 
Previous  ethical  writers,  including  the  historians  of  morality, 
ordinarily  stand  quite  unsuspectingly  under  the  commando  of 

^’‘Werke,  XIII,  117. 

“’See  Genealogy  etc.,  preface,  §5;  Werke,  XIV,  40T2,  § 278;  Joyful 
Science,  § 345. 

““  Will  to  Power,  § 458. 


CRITICISM  OF  MORALITY.  INTRODUCTORY  207 


a special  morality  and  have  no  idea  how  limited  their  vision 
is.  Their  good  and  bad  they  regard  as  good  and  bad  itself. 
Socrates  indeed  was  skeptical  and  modest,  but  his  disciples  did 
not  imitate  him.®  And  this  morality,  which  is  so  commonly 
accepted,  is  simply  the  morality  of  the  common  man,  the  social- 
creature  man,  who  lives  in  and  with  and  for  his  herd  or  com- 
munity as  the  animal  does  in,  with,  and  for  its.  Morality,  the 
prevailing  morality,  is  Heerdenthier  morality;  and  it  thinks 
that  it  is  morality  itself,  and  that  there  is  no  other!  But  his- 
tory shows  that  there  are  other  types  of  morality,  and  the 
genuine  thinker  has  to  ask.  Why  this  and  not  that  ? 

It  is  only  putting  this  into  other  language  to  say  that 
philosophical  reflection  has  been  at  its  poorest  in  dealing  with 
good  and  evil.  Predominant  social  forces  have  always  been 
against  thoroughgoing  criticism  here.  Morality  has  been  in- 
vested with  authority,  even  visible  authority — and  authorities 
are  not  to  be  questioned,  but  obeyed ! Indeed  to  question 
morality — was  it  not  immoral?  Yes,  Nietzsche  asks,  is  it  not 
immoral? — does  not  a similar  feeling  exist  today?  There  is 
also  something  seductive  about  morality;  it  throws  a kind  of 
spell  over  us — in  face  of  it  the  critical  will  is  lamed;  he  calls 
it  the  “Circe  of  philosophers,”  citing  as  instances  Kant,  with 
his  desire  above  everything  else  to  clear  the  way  for  “majestic 
moral  structures,”  and  Schopenhauer,  who  was  seduced  so  far 
that  in  the  name  of  morality  he  was  ready  to  turn  against  life 
itself.®  A result  of  the  unquestioning  attitude  to  morality  is 
to  make  discourse  about  it  trite — it  becomes  a twice-told  tale. 
Talking  about  it,  Nietzsche  somewhat  mockingly  remarks,  is  a 
good  preparation  for  sleep.®  This  may  be  part  reason,  I may 
add  on  my  own  account,  why  keen  thinkers,  who  wish  to  ac- 
complish something  with  their  thinking,  sometimes  feel  no  par- 
ticular attraction  to  ethics — they  want  to  face  problems,  and 
ethics  hardly  seems  to  offer  any.®  As  I understand  Nietzsche, 
he  by  no  means  questions  the  utility  of  this  matter-of-course 

Joyful  Science,  § 345;  Werlce,  XIII,  96. 

“Cf.  Werke,  XIV,  67-8,  § 134;  Will  to  Power,  § 458. 

Dawn  of  Day,  preface,  §3;  Werke,  XIII,  117;  Genealogy  etc., 
preface,  §§  5,  6;  Will  to  Power,  §§  461,  401.  Cf.,  on  Christian  morality 
and  its  seductive  influence  on  thinkers,  Ecce  Homo,  IV,  § 6. 

Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  §2;  cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 228. 


208 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


morality — it  functions  most  usefully  in  average  society;  he 
simply  finds  it  intellectually  uninteresting,  or  rather  first  inter- 
esting when  a sense  of  the  problematical  in  it  is  aroused.  Then 
indeed  it  may  become  dangerously  interesting,  so  much  so  that 
it  is  perhaps  just  as  well  that  few  regard  it  in  this  light.^^  But 
however  this  may  be,  morality  does  become  a problem  to  him — 
I might  say,  his  great  and  specific  problem.  “To  see  and  indi- 
cate the  problem  of  morality — that  seems  to  me  the  new  task 
and  principal  thing.  I deny  that  it  has  been  done  in  previous 
moral  philosophy.”^®  The  most  settled  and  commonplace  fea- 
tures of  the  subject  excite  his  skeptical  wonderment.  “I 
wonder  at  the  most  recognized  things  in  morality, — and  other 
philosophers,  like  Schopenhauer,  have  only  been  struck  by  the 
‘wonders’  in  morality.”®®  He  calls  his  an  “attempt  to 
think  about  morality,  without  standing  under  its  spell.”®® 

IV 

As  just  stated,  he  does  not  recommend  his  attitude  to  all. 
The  question  as  to  the  origin  and  root  meaning  of  good  and 
evil  he  speaks  of  as  a “siilles  Problem’’  which  “addresses 
itself  selectively  to  only  a few  ears.”®^  “We  are  the  exception 
and  the  danger”  and  “forever  need  justification,”  he  admits, 
adding  that  something  may  be  said  in  favor  of  the  exception, 
provided  that  it  does  not  seek  to  become  the  rule.®®  There  is 
perhaps  also  a suggestion  of  the  dangerousness  of  his  under- 
taking in  an  aphorism  labeled  “Casuistic”:  “There  is  a bitter 
(hitterhose)  alternative  to  which  every  man’s  courage  and  char- 
acter are  not  equal : as  passengers  on  a ship  to  discover  that 
captain  and  pilot  are  making  dangerous  errors,  and  that  in 
nautical  knowledge  we  are  superior  to  them — and  now  to  ask  our- 
selves : How  is  it,  should  you  not  incite  a mutiny  against  them 
and  have  them  both  imprisoned?  Does  not  your  superiority 
obligate  you  to  do  this?  And  on  the  other  hand,  are  they  not 
in  the  right  in  locking  you  up,  since  you  undermine  authority  ? 

So  in  effect  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 228. 

Will  to  Power,  § 263. 

Werke,  XIII,  16,  § 33. 

‘’‘Will  to  Power,  § 253;  cf.  Joyful  Science,  §§  359,  375;  Beyond  Good 
and  Evil,  § 33. 

Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 5. 

Joyful  Science,  § 76. 


CRITICISM  OF  MORALITY.  INTRODUCTORY  209 


This  is  a parable  for  higher  and  worse  situations;  whereby  the 
question  still  remains  what  guarantees  to  us  our  superiority, 
our  faith  in  ourselves  in  such  eases.  The  result?  But  for  this 
we  must  do  the  thing  that  carries  all  the  dangers  with  it — 
and  not  only  dangers  for  us,  but  for  the  ship.  ’ ’ ^ Hence 
Nietzsche  takes  responsibility  solely — or  if  he  wishes  com- 
panions, it  is  only  men  of  like  temper  and  mind  with  himself ; 
his  writings  are  chiefly  to  find  out  persons  of  this  type — not 
to  persuade  others.  He  is  a law  for  his  own,  not  for  all.^^  His 
ground  is 

“ Glattes  Eis, 

Ein  Paradeis 

Fiir  den,  der  gut  zu  tanzen  weiss.”  “ 

And  the  positions  he  finally  reaches  are  often  themselves 
frankly  tentative,  experimental.* 

In  this  ethical  field  as  elsewhere  Nietzsche  gives  us  little 
in  order.  There  is  a somewhat  connected  treatment  of  certain 
themes  in  Genealogy  of  Morals;  but  aside  from  this  we  have 
only  a mass  of  aphorisms  and  notes,  written  at  different  times, 
in  different  moods,  and  from  different  angles  of  vision.  At 
times  I have  been  almost  in  despair  over  the  multifariousness 
of  my  subject-matter,  and  I can  only  offer  as  orderly  and  con- 
sistent a statement  as  the  refractory  character  of  it  will  allow. 
It  is  like  trying  to  make  a cosmos  out  of  the  chaos  of  the  world 
itself;  perhaps  the  world  is  chaos  rather  than  cosmos;  and  yet, 
on  the  other  hand,  it  may  be  that  the  trouble  is  with  us  and 
that  finer  perception  and  a larger  outlook  would  discover  unities 
in  difference  that  now  escape  us. 

Daion  of  Day,  § 436. 

**  Zarathustra,  IV,  xii. 

“ Scherz,  List,  und  Raehe,”  § 13,  prefixed  to  Joyful  Science. 


CHAPTER  XVII 


CRITICISM  OF  MORALITY  (Cont.).  THE  SOCIAL  FUNCTION 
AND  MEANING  OF  MORALITY 

I 

Criticism  has  for  its  presupposition  a certain  detachment  from 
the  object  criticised;  it  is  a curious  look  at  it  from  the  outside, 
unbiased  by  personal  feeling — at  least  it  is  in  this  sense  that 
Nietzsche  criticises  morality.  “In  order  for  once  to  get  a view 
of  our  European  morality  from  a distance,  to  measure  it  by 
other  moralities,  past  or  to  come,  we  must  do  as  a traveler  does 
who  wishes  to  know  how  high  the  towers  of  a city  are : to  that 
end  he  leaves  the  city.  ‘Thoughts  about  moral  prejudices,’ 
if  they  are  not  to  be  prejudices  about  prejudices,  presuppose 
a position  outside  morality,  some  kind  of  a beyond  good  and 
evil,  to  which  we  must  climb,  clamber,  or  take  a flight — and,  at 
all  events  in  the  instance  supposed  a beyond  our  good  and  evil, 
a liberation  from  all  ‘Europe,’  this  being  understood  as  a 
sum  of  valuations  of  mandatory  character,  which  have  passed 
over  into  our  flesh  and  blood.”  Nietzsche  is  aware  that  there 
may  be  a little  madness  in  proposing  to  do  this,  and  that  the 
question  is  whether  we  really  can.’^  He  answers  half-playfully 
that  it  is  in  the  main  a question  of  how  light  or  how  heavy  we 
are,  the  problem  of  our  “specific  gravity”;  we  must  be  very 
light  to  rise  to  a height  from  which  we  can  survey  millenniums 
and  besides  have  pure  heaven  in  our  eyes,  must  have  freed 
ourselves  from  much  that  weighs  just  us  Europeans  down,  must 
first  of  all  have  overcome  our  own  time — yes,  and  our  hostility 
to  the  time,  our  disharmony  with  it,  our  romanticism.^ 

In  describing  the  critical  attitude  Nietzsche  uses  the  term 
“immoralist.”  The  word  does  not  occur,  so  far  as  I know,  in 
the  dictionaries  (e.g.,  in  Muret-Sanders’  Worterhuch  or  the  Cen- 
tury Dictionary),  and  by  Nietzsche  it  is  first  used  in  The  Wan- 
derer and  his  Shadow  (1879).  He  there  says,  “Moralists  must 

* Joyful  Science,  § 380. 

210 


SOCIAL  MEANING  OF  MORALITY 


211 


now  allow  themselves  to  be  reproachfully  called  immoralists, 
because  they  dissect  morality.  Whosoever  wishes  to  dissect 
must  kill;  however,  only  in  order  that  better  knowledge,  better 
judgment,  better  life  may  arise,  not  that  all  the  world  is  to  dis- 
sect.” Dissection,  he  explains  in  the  succeeding  aphorism,  does 
not  mean  denial  or  depreciation,  and  he  distinguishes  the  great 
moralists  from  the  smaller  sort  by  this  token.  The  great  ones, 
when  they  analyze  the  grand  manner  of  thought,  say  of  a hero 
of  Plutarch’s,  or  the  illumined  state  of  really  good  men  and 
women,  and  find  complications  of  motive  in  what  is  apparently 
simple,  delicate  illusions  playing  a part,  have  simply  the  sense 
of  a difficult  problem  of  knowledge  before  them;  but  the  small 
moralists  say,  “here  are  deceivers  and  deceptions” — that  is, 
they  deny  the  existence  of  just  what  the  others  are  seeking  to 
explain.^  It  is  the  intellectual  motive  that  makes  the  moralist, 
and  in  another  place  he  compares  the  lesser  sort,  who  are 
without  the  love  of  knowledge  and  know  only  the  pleasure  of 
hurting,  to  small  boys  who  are  not  happy  save  as  they  are 
pursuing  and  mistreating  the  living  and  the  dead.^  At  the  same 
time  the  genuine  moralist  is  too  preoccupied  with  his  special 
work  to  be  a preacher  of  morality.  The  older  moralists,  he  says, 
dissected  insufficiently  and  preached  all  too  often;  and  it  is 
apparently  to  mark  off  the  new  kind,  who  merely  dissect  and 
hence  incur  the  suspicion  of  being  anti-moral,  that  he  consents 
to  the  application  of  the  label  “immoralists”  to  them.^  He 
speaks  of  it  as  an  “unpleasant  result,”  and  takes  up  the  phrase 
and  applies  it  to  himself  somewhat  as  one  would  pick  up  a 
gauntlet.  One  may,  or  even  must,  question  the  wisdom  of  his 
doing  this,  since  the  ordinary  person,  unaware  of  nice  distinc- 
tions and  thinking  that  “immoralist”  must  imply  some  sort  of 
advocacy  of  immorality,  as  “moralist”  does  of  morality,  infers 
that  Nietzsche  was  on  the  side  of  license  and  vice.’’  I need  not 
say  after  the  foregoing  that  this  is  a mistaken  view.  Neither 

“ The  Wanderer  etc.,  §§  19,  20. 

° Dawn  of  Day,  § 357. 

* The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 20.  Also  in  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 228  (cf. 
Werke,  XIII,  114,  § 255)  he  contrasts  the  moral  preacher  or  Puritan  with 
the  moralist.  There  is  the  same  intelleetualist  meaning  in  the  reference 
to  the  “old  varied  moralistic  culture”  of  the  French, — a respect  in 
which  they  far  surpassed,  he  thinks,  the  Germans  {Beyond  Good  and 
Evil,  § 254 ) . 


212 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


moralists  nor  immoralists  are  advocates,  as  he  uses  the  terms, 
but  critics,  analysts.  The  scientific  motive  characterizes  both 
alike,  and  apparently,  as  just  stated,  it  was  to  emphasize  this 
fact  that  he  took  up  with  the  more  unusual  term.  That  he  does 
not  become,  any  more  than  he  had  been,  an  advocate  of  license 
and  vice,  will  probably  be  sufficiently  clear  in  future  pages. 
Indeed,  we  shall  find  him  saying  strongly,  “we  immoralists’’ 
are  “men  of  duty,’’  “also  to  us  speaks  a ‘thou  oughtst,’  ” “we 
also  obey  a strict  law  above  us.  ’ ’ ® All  the  same  it  must  be 
frankly  admitted  that  at  times  Nietzsche  veers  from  this  purely 
critical  conception  of  the  immoralist  and  uses  the  term  in  a 
more  or  less  doctrinal,  partisan  sense.®  He  confuses,  one  might 
say,  an  attitude,  a method  with  a result — at  least  with  what 
was  the  result  in  his  own  ease.  From  being  “outside”  Euro- 
pean morality,  a simple  observer  and  critic  of  it,  he  came  to 
be  against  it — and  perhaps  the  truth  is  that  he  was  against  it 
from  the  start,  however  unclearly  or  undecidedly.  Even  so, 
he  was  not  against  morality,  but  against  a certain  type  of 
morality — and  within  limits  he  recognized  the  usefulness  and 
validity  of  this  type,  as  we  shall  later  see. 

Undoubtedly  Nietzsche  has  injured  himself  in  the  eyes  of 
the  general  public  by  using  the  obnoxious  term,  and  yet  it  is 
probable  that  he  would  have  excited  prejudice  anyway  by  the 
detached  critical  attitude  toward  morality  which  he  assumed. 
Society  can  hardly  look  on  with  indifference  when  any  of  its 
number  stand  outside  the  common  agreements  and  look  ques- 
tioningly  at  them,  least  of  all  at  an  agreement  so  central  and 
deep  as  morality.  A morality  is  not  unlike  a God  who  wishes  no 
other  Gods  beside  him : it  resents,  Nietzsche  says,  the  idea  of 
many  moralities,  wants  no  comparison,  no  criticism,  but  uncon- 
ditional faith  in  itself.  It  is  hence  in  its  nature  anti-scientific, 
and  the  perfect  moralist  must  be  outside  it  {unmoralisch) , 
beyond  its  good  and  evil.’’  “Plato  has  splendidly  described 
how  the  philosophical  thinker  in  the  midst  of  every  de  facto 
society  has  to  pass  as  the  quintessence  of  all  that  is  impious; 
for  as  critic  of  all  mores  he  is  the  antithesis  of  the  moral  man, 

' Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 226 ; Dawn  of  Day,  preface,  § 4. 

' Cf.,  for  example,  Will  to  Power,  §§  116,  132,  211,  235,  374. 

’ Werke,  XIII,  114-5,  § 256. 


SOCIAL  MEANING  OF  MORALITY 


213 


and  if  he  does  not  carry  things  so  far  as  to  become  a legislator 
of  new  mores,  he  remains  in  the  recollection  of  men  as  an 
instance  of  ‘the  evil  principle.’  That  is,  it  irritates  men  to 
have  one  question  what  all  believe,  and  if  he  is  a good  man, 
they  do  not  see  why  he  should.  But  whether  Nietzsche  made 
matters  worse  for  himself  by  using  the  term  “immoralist”  or 
not,  his  meaning  (at  least  his  initial  and  fundamental  mean- 
ing) in  using  it  is  clear — and  we  may  now  pass  on  to  a detailed 
consideration  of  the  dissection  or  critical  analysis  he  gives.  The 
analysis,  it  must  be  confessed,  is  rarely  pure — exhibitions  of 
personal  feeling,  anticipations  of  his  own  positive  views  are 
frequent;  really  the  distinction  between  his  criticism  and  his 
construction  in  this  realm  is  a more  or  less  arbitrary  one — and 
yet  it  is  convenient  and  is  suggested  by  himself,  and  I shall 
regard  it  as  far  as  the  material  to  be  dealt  with  will  allow. 

II 

Taking  then  our  stand  with  Nietzsche  outside  morality  for  the 
time,  looking  at  it  with  as  much  of  the  purely  scientific  spirit  as 
we  can  command,  what  do  we  find — that  is,  what  does  he  find  ? 

First,  in  continuation  of  the  view  we  have  already  come 
upon  in  considering  the  second  period,®  morality  reveals  itself 
as  a phenomenon  of  society,  something  strictly  social  in  nature. 
The  classical  passage  in  this  connection  is  Dawn  of  Bay,  § 9, 
which  bears  the  title,  “Begriff  der  Sittlichkeit  der  Sitte.” 
Every  student  of  Nietzsche  should  read  it  carefully,  if  only  to 
see  how  much  of  scientific  analysis  he  can  compress  on  occasion 
into  three  or  four  pages.  The  ground  marks  of  morality  here 
appear,  as  not  individual  utility,  but  authority  on  the  one  hand 
and  obedience  on  the  other.  The  authority,  however,  is  general 
or  social;  and  the  obedience,  like  the  fear  or  reverence  deepen- 
ing to  superstition  from  which  it  springs,  is  not  to  any  person.'’ 
The  central  thing  is  the  Bitten  {mores)  of  the  social  group, 

® Dawn  of  Day,  § 496. 

° See  ante,  pp.  120-3. 

It  will  be  simpler  hereafter  to  use  the  Latin  mores  as  an  equivalent 
for  Sitten — our  English  word  “ customs  ” failing,  without  some  qualifying 
adjective,  to  indicate  the  weight  and  authority  which  attach  to  them. 
W.  G.  Sumner  was  perhaps  the  first  to  make  extended  use  of  the  term 
in  scientific  discussion  of  the  subject — see  his  Folkways,  particularly  pp. 
36-7 ; cf.  also  ch.  iv  of  Dewey  and  Tufts’  Ethics. 


214  ' NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 

morality,  in  the  subjective  sense,  being  definable  as  action  ac- 
cording to  them.  A Sitte  or  mos  is  a long-established  social 
habit  or  rule — one  that  may  be  followed  or  not,*^  and  that  has 
gravity  because  it  is  believed  to  be  vitally  related  to  the  wel- 
fare of  the  group.  Individuals  may  impose  commands,  but 
only  societies  can  have  mores;  and  because  no  one  knows  just 
whence  they  come,  superstition  has  free  range  in  accounting 
for  them.®  The  mores  were  of  a wide  range  in  early  communi- 
ties ; they  covered  health,  marriage,  medicine,  war,  agriculture, 
religion — so  that  morality  was  almost  co-extensive  with  the 
whole  of  life.^^  On  the  other  hand,  in  things  where  no  tradi- 
tion commanded,  there  was  no  morality;  and  the  less  life  was 
determined  by  tradition  the  smaller  the  circle  of  morality  be- 
came— so  that  with  this  in  mind  Nietzsche  can  say  that  we  now 
live  in  a relatively  unmoral  time,  so  many  things  being  left 
to  individual  judgment  or  inclination.  The  opposite  of  the 
moral  man  was  one  who  acted  (or  was  disposed  to)  according 
to  his  own  ideas — almost  inevitably  he  seemed  evil  to  the  rest 
of  the  community;  indeed  in  all  primitive  conditions  of  man- 
kind “evil”  was  practically  equivalent  to  “individual,” 
“free,”  “arbitrary,”  “unusual,”  “unforeseen,”  “unreckon- 
able.”^  Even  if  the  individual  did  what  was  moral,  yet  not 
because  tradition  commanded  it,  but  for  other  reasons,  say  for 
personal  advantage,  or  if  in  varying  from  tradition  he  acted 
from  the  very  motives  of  the  general  advantage  which  estab- 
lished the  tradition  in  the  first  place,  but  of  his  own  motion 
purely,  he  was  liable  to  be  esteemed  unmoral  and  might  view 
himself  in  this  light — morality  being  a matter  of  conformity 
and  obedience  altogether.  The  only  way  in  which  one  could 
rise  to  independence  of  the  mores  was  to  become  a law- 
giver oneself,  a medicine-man  or  half-God — that  is,  to  make 
mores,  a fearful  enterprise  in  which  one  risked  one’s  own 
life. 

In  this  circle  of  conceptions  who  was  the  most  moral?  It 
was  either  he  who  fulfilled  the  law  most  often,  and  so,  like  the 

” On  the  range  of  the  mores,  cf.  Wundt,  Ethics  (Eng.  tr. ),  I,  265-6; 
Lazarus,  Zeitschrift  fur  Volkerpsychologie,  I,  452. 

’^The  word  here  is  Mse — see  the  full  explanation  in  the  following 
chapter. 


SOCIAL  MEANING  OF  MORALITY 


215 


Brahman,  took  the  consciousness  of  it  everywhere  and  into  each 
smallest  fraction  of  time,  so  that  he  even  invented  occasions 
for  fulfilling  it ; or  else  he  who  fulfilled  it  in  the  most  difficult 
cases,  who  sacrificed  most  of  it — at  least  these  were  the  principal 
measurements.  And  where  sacrifice  was  the  thing  exalted,  the 
motive  for  it  should  not  be  mistaken.  The  mastery  of  self  im- 
plied was  not  for  the  individual’s  benefit,  but  that  the  law 
might  stand  out  sovereign,  even  against  the  individual’s  interest 
and  desire.  It  is  true  that  in  the  course  of  time,  some,  following 
in  the  footsteps  of  Socrates,  took  self-mastery  and  self-denial 
as  the  individual’s  most  real  advantage  and  key  to  happiness, 
but  they  were  the  exception — something  we  only  fail  to  realize 
today  because  we  have  been  educated  under  their  infiuence; 
they  all  went  on  a new  way  and  encountered  the  highest  dis- 
approval of  representatives  of  the  old  morality — they  were 
really  separatists,  and  so  far  unmoral,  and,  in  the  deepest  sense, 
evil  {hose).  To  a virtuous  Roman  of  the  old  stamp,  the  Chris- 
tian who  “sought  first  for  his  own  salvation”  seemed  evil  in 
just  the  same  way. 

Such  were  the  original  ground-lines  of  morality,  as  Nietz- 
sche conceives  the  matter.  As  to  whether  men  always  existed 
in  groups,  his  opinion  appears  to  vary.  So  far  as  a view  anywise 
approaching  consistency  can  be  made  out,  it  was  as  follows: 
There  may  have  been  a time  when  men  (or  some  men)  existed 
independently  and  had  to  be  brought  forcibly  under  social 
restraint  and  rule;*  but  practically  it  is  a negligible  time, 
groups,  fiocks,  or  herds  of  some  kind  having  existed  as  far  back 
in  history  as  we  can  go,  so  that  properly  we  can  only  speak  of 
higher  and  stronger  forms  of  social  organization  imposing  them- 
selves on  lower  and  weaker  forms,  with  a comparatively  weak 
and  relatively  unsocial  state  as  a hypothetical  beginning.® 
These  groups  {Heerden  is  the  term  Nietzsche  often  uses,  not 
unmindful  of  its  association  with  animal  phenomena,  and  partly 
just  for  this  reason)  were  veritable  entities  or  wholes — an 
individual  had  a feeling  for  his  group  out  of  all  proportion  to 
that  which  he  had  for  a neighbor.**  Strictly  personal  relations 

” He  uses  the  term  sometimes,  however,  in  the  widest  sense,  covering 
“family-alliances,  communities,  tribes,  peoples,  states,  churches”  (Be- 
yond Good  and  Evil,  § 199 ) . 

“ Werke,  XII,  97,  § 197. 


216 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


were  only  gradually  brought  under  the  rule  of  morality ; Nietz- 
sche even  ventures  to  say  that  in  the  best  Roman  period  a 
pitying  action  was  neither  good  nor  bad,  neither  moral  nor 
unmoral,  or,  if  praised,  was  valued  slightly  in  comparison  with 
an  action  that  affected  the  res  puhlica}^  Down  to  the  present 
day  he  finds  morality’s  prescriptions  vague,  crude,  unfine  for 
personal  well-being.'®  And  yet  there  was  something  elevated 
in  this  group-morality  despite  or  rather  just  because  of  its 
taking  so  little  account  of  individuals;  fashioned  in  this  way 
the  individual  became  a public  being,  or,  as  Nietzsche  puts  it, 
a collective  individual.'’'  So  organically  was  he  a part  of  the 
group,  so  little  did  he  have  a separate  life  of  his  own,  that  he 
was  ready  to  risk  his  life  for  it  on  occasion.  As  animals,  in 
whom  the  social  impulses  overrule  individual  ones,  perform 
actions  that  are  to  their  own  hurt,  though  useful  to  their  herd 
or  flock,  so  is  it  with  men.'® 

Nietzsche  sometimes  speaks  as  if  the  state  [some  kind  of 
authoritative  organized  social  existence]  were  prior  to  individ- 
uals— they  arising  at  the  end  of  the  social  process  rather  than 
existing  at  the  beginning.'®  Older,  he  says,  is  the  pleasure  in 
the  herd  than  the  pleasure  in  the  I ; the  crafty  and  loveless  I 
that  seeks  its  own  advantage  in  the  advantage  of  many  is  not 
the  origin  of  the  herd,  but  the  ruin  of  it.®“  Society  does  not 
form  itself  out  of  individuals,  does  not  arise  from  contracts 
between  them.®'  Peoples  created  before  individuals ; indeed  the 
individual  himself  is  the  latest  creation.®®  Nietzsche  roundly 
asserts,  as  against  Paul  Ree,  that  the  herd-instinct  was  orig- 
inally the  stronger  and  more  powerful  thing,  and  that  when 
one  presumed  to  act  separately  and  individually  (i.e.,  not  ac- 

” Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 201.  If  altruistic  actions  in  these  unitary 
primitive  societies  had  an  I-feeling  as  a presupposition,  it  was  a col- 
lective I, — they  were  quite  other  than  our  actions  from  pity  (Werke,  XIII, 
T88,  §417). 

Werke,  XI,  24.3,  § 203;  Dawn  of  Day,  § 107;  JoyfuC  Science,  § 335. 

Werke,  XII,  97,  § 197;  Human,  etc.,  § 94. 

Werke,  XIII,  187. 

'^bid.,  XII,  112;  113-4,  § 226. 

Zarathustra,  I,  xv.  Cf.  Werke,  XIII,  213,  § 500  (“Love  of  the 
community  is  older  than  selfishness,  in  any  case  for  a long  time 
stronger  ” ) . 

Werke,  XII,  111. 

Zarathustra,  I,  xv. 


SOCIAL  MEANING  OF  MORALITY 


217 


cording  to  the  herd-law),  he  seemed  to  the  rest  evil.^  On  so 
deep  and  ancient  a foundation  does  morality  rest,  in  his  view. 
He  virtually  defines  moral  actions  as  organic  functions  of  indi- 
viduals, in  which  not  the  individual,  but  a higher  principle  is 
th'e  aim.^  Still  more  concisely,  “Morality  is  the  herd-instinct 
[ruling]  in  the  individual.”^* 


Ill 

As  to  the  content  of  morality,  Nietzsche  goes  little  beyond 
what  we  have  already  found  him  saying  in  his  second  period.^ 
The  mores  of  different  groups  vary  widely,  and  superficially 
nothing  may  seem  constant  in  morality  but  its  form.  Yet  there 
are  certain  mores  which  tend  to  arise  everywhere.  While  any 
mos  is  better  than  none — a great  proposition  with  which,  Nietz- 
sche says,  civilization  begins  — some  kinds  of  behavior  are  so 
necessary  to  social  life  that  norms  corresponding  to  them  are 
practically  universal.  If  men  injure  one  another,  lie  to  one 
another,  if  they  do  not  to  some  extent  help  one  another,  they 
can  hardly  form  a group  at  all.  Animal  society  itself  rests  on 
something  like  love,  constancy  of  affection,  education  of  the 
young,  labor,  economy,  courage,  obedience  on  the  part  of  the 
weaker,  protecting  care  on  the  part  of  the  stronger,  sacrifice 
among  all.  No  society  can  maintain  itself  without  such  quali- 
ties, and  in  those  continuing  the  impulses  become  hereditary.^' 
Sympathy  {Mitgefuhl)  a factor  in  social  formations,  the  readi- 
ness of  men  to  aid  one  another  and  have  understandings  a, 
condition  of  life — such  is  Nietzsche’s  point  of  view.^  To  how- 
ever slight  an  extent,  rudiments  of  ‘ ‘ mutual  consideration,  pity, 
reasonableness,  mildness,  reciprocity  of  services”  make  their 
appearance.^  “Peaceable,  reasonable,  moderate,  modest,  con- 
siderate, chaste,  honest,  true,  loyal,  pitiful,  dutiful,  obedient, 

‘^Werke,  XIII,  111,  § 253. 

^*Ibid.,  XIII,  173,  § 397;  cf.  XII,  109,  § 223. 

Joyful  Science,  § 116. 

See  ante,  pp.  120  ff. 

" Dawn  of  Day,  § 16.  Cf.  a remark  in  another  connection,  “ Only 
within  confines  established  by  tradition,  fixed  custom,  circumscribed 
horizons  {Beschrdnkung)  is  there  comfort  in  the  world”  (Werke,  XL 
144). 

Werke,  XIII,  187. 

See,  for  instance,  incidental  remarks  in  Werke,  XIV,  323-4. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 201. 


218 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


unselfish,  industrious” — such  is  another  list  of  the  qualities  and 
impulses  that  tend  to  be  praised;  all  not  on  their  own  account, 
but  as  means  to  the  group’s  ends,  as  necessary  for  its  preserva- 
tion and  advancement.^^  One  might  call  them  essential  moral- 
ity— as  distinguished  from  the  morality  that  varies  from  one 
people  to  another;  Nietzsche  does  not  use  the  phrase,  but  his 
view  seems  to  warrant  it.  Everywhere  there  is  a tendency 
toward  the  exaltation  of  virtues  of  this  description,  i.e.,  within 
each  group  and  as  conditions  of  the  group’s  life. 

Morality  thus  comes  to  be  seen  in  a certain  perspective,  and 
we  understand  the  gravity  which  has  always  been  attached  to 
it.  As  a condition  of  life  for  the  group,^^  it  is  supremely 
important;  if  it  is  not  respected,  the  group  structure  becomes 
loose,  the  group  itself  is  liable  to  be  dissolved.  Prom  the 
latter’s  most  intimate  instincts  of  self-preservation  come  af- 
firmation and  negation,  approval  and  disapproval,  praise  and 
blame  accordingly.  The  group  may  of  course  err  in  making 
particular  judgments — may  regard  things  as  necessary  to  its 
well-being  which  are  not,  may  treat  individuals  as  responsible 
when  they  are  not,  but  judge  as  best  it  can  it  must.  If  it  will 
live,  it  must  value,  i.e.,  look  at  things  in  relation  to  itself  and 
its  needs,  and  pronounce  accordingly;  it  must  have  tables  of 
good  and  evil,  must  love  and  hate,  praise  and  blame,  reward 
and  punish.^  The  good  is  good  for  it,  the  evil  evil  for  it — it  is 
indeed  the  first  creator  of  good  and  evil,  individual  estimates 
coming  later.^ 

At  the  same  time  good,  being  good  for  the  group,  is  not  a 
good  over  it.  It  makes  categories  of  good  and  evil  which  bind  its 
members,  but  in  the  nature  of  the  case  they  do  not  apply 
to  itself.  Morality  has  its  meaning  as  the  conduct  that  serves 
it,  but  the  group  is  not  in  the  relation  of  service  to  something 
beyond  itself;  nor  as  creator  of  good  and  evil  is  it  subject 

'Will  to  Power,  § 284. 

The  expression  “ life-conditions,”  or  its  equivalent,  appears  re- 
peatedly; cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  204,  216,  256;  Werke,  XIII,  139,  §§  320-3; 
XIV,  67,  § 132;  338,  § 188. 

” Zarathustra,  I,  xv;  Werke,  XIII,  197,  § 435;  Will  to  Potoer,  §§  216, 

293. 

Zarathustra,  I,  xv.  Dewey  and  Tufts  speak  of  man  as  “an  active 
and  organizing  judge  and  creator  of  values”  (op.  cit.,  p.  184),  but  appear 
to  have  in  mind  individuals  rather  than  groups. 


SOCIAL  MEANING  OF  MORALITY 


219 


to  its  own  creation.  The  group  simply  does  what  it  must  do  to 
live,  taking  itself  as  a fact  of  nature.^  To  bring  it  somehow 
under  the  moral  categories,  we  may  say  it  has  a right  to  exist, 
but  even  this  language  is  inexact  in  Nietzsche’s  view,  for,  as 
has  already  been  hinted  and  we  shall  see  more  clearly  later,  he 
finds  rights  arising  by  contract  or  under  a general  system  of 
law,  and  it  is  not  in  this  way  that  social  groups  arise  or  main- 
tain themselves  (save  in  exceptional  circumstances) — they  are 
spontaneous  natural  formations  and  are  guided  purely  by  in- 
stincts of  self-preservation.^  Instead  of  having  a right  to 
exist,  we  can  only  truthfully  say  that  they  will  exist — this  will 
being  shown  indeed  in  the  imperatives  they  put  on  their  mem- 
bers, the  rules  they  require  them  to  obey : it  is  their  will  to 
be  and  to  rule  that  is  the  explanation  of  morality In  other 
words,  the  group  itself  is  outside  morality,  and  the  virtues 
serve  an  instinct  which  is  fundamentally  different  in  character 
from  themselves.  As  imperative  and  binding  as  morality  is 
upon  individuals,  as  necessary  to  the  very  life  of  the  com- 
munity as  it  may  be,  so  that  the  latter  stands  or  falls  with  it, 
it  is  not  good  on  its  own  account  or  as  an  end  in  itself,  but 
as  means  to  an  end  beyond  it — an  end  that  can  only  be  described 
in  non-moral  terms.^* 

How  true  the  last  remark  is  to  Nietzsche’s  thought,  though 
the  language  is  my  own,  is  shown  in  what  he  says  of  the  relation 
of  social  groups  to  one  another.  On  occasion  they  feel  and 
act  in  a way  which  is  the  exact  opposite  of  what  they  require 
of  their  members  in  their  conduct  to  one  another.  They  may 
be  mutually  hostile,  selfish,  unmerciful,  full  of  the  desire  to 
dominate — and  all  in  good  conscience.^®  The  members  of  one 
group  may  deceive,  rob,  kill  those  of  another  group  without 
the  slightest  self-reproach.  In  a famous  passage  (“infamous,” 
some  would  say)  Nietzsche  describes  a highly  moralized  race, 
its  members  self-restrained  in  their  dealings  with  one  another 
and  showing  all  manner  of  mutual  eonsiderateness,  delicacy  of 

" Cf.  the  suggestions  of  Werke,  XIII,  214,  § 500. 

Will  to  Power,  § 728. 

This  will  not  merely  to  he,  but  to  rule  is  asserted  in  Will  to  Power, 
§ 275;  Werke,  XIII,  197,  § 435;  XIV,  90-1,  §184. 

Will  to  Power,  § 284. 

Ihid.,  § 284. 


220 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


feeling,  loyalty,  and  friendship,  falling  on  a stranger  race,  mur- 
dering, burning,  ravishing,  torturing,  and  with  no  graver  feel- 
ings than  those  of  students  on  a lark  “ Even  today  the  groups 
we  call  nations  or  states  have  a double  stardard:  they  forbid 
violence  within  and  allow  or  even  command  it  on  occasion 
without — the  very  acts  which  are  offenses,  crimes  in  the  one 
case,  meeting  with  general  approval  or  applause  in  the  other. 
Inconsistent,  we  may  say — but  really  so  only  to  a confused 
perception.  Moral  conduct  (in  the  historic  sense  of  “moral”) 
is  the  conduct  becoming  to  members  of  a social  whole  and  in 
furtherance  of  the  ends  of  the  social  whole — but  it  is  no  wider 
than  the  social  whole,  and  where  there  is  no  social  whole,  it 
has  in  the  nature  of  the  case  no  application.  If  some  of  us 
today  condemn  certain  acts  of  nations  or  states  as  immoral, 
we  do  so  in  the  name  of  a sentiment  or  idea  to  which  no  reality 
as  yet  corresponds;  we  imply  a society,  a social  whole,  which 
has  no  existence,  but  which,  if  it  existed,  would  of  necessity 
put  this  brand  on  the  acts  in  question.  It  is  surely  inept  to 
speak  of  the  society  of  the  human  race  at  present;  it  is  even 
inept  to  speak  of  Europe  as  a society — it  is  a collection  of 
independent  societies,  of  separate  sovereign  wholes.^^  ^ The  only 
way  in  which  separate  wholes  can  be  properly  amenable  to 
morality  is  to  cease  to  he  separate  wholes,  to  merge  themselves 
in  one  another  or  in  some  greater  unity — then  the  law  by  which 
the  larger  whole  lives  becomes  the  law  for  each  individual  one. 
Independent  societies  already  do  this  to  a limited  extent,  namely 
so  far  as  they  make  contracts  or  treaties  with  one  another  or 
have  common  understandings:  to  this  extent  they  part  with 
their  individual  sovereignty  and  become  subject  to  moral  rule. 
A society  that  breaks  a treaty,  that  violates  a common  under- 
standing, commits  ipso  facto  an  immoral  act.  But  societies 
which  have  no  treaties  or  understandings — independent,  sov- 
ereign social  groups — are  in  the  nature  of  the  case  non-moral 
beings.^^ 

Yes,  individuals  themselves,  so  far  as  they  are  agents  of 
the  group,  acquire  a more  or  less  non-moral  character.  An 

Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 11. 

**  This  was  written  before  the  present  war. 

“ The  statements  here  are  my  own — but  I think  I follow  the  logic 
of  Nietzsche’s  thought. 


SOCIAL  MEANING  OF  MORALITY 


221 


official  of  the  state  is  without  feeling  of  guilt  when  he  hangs 
a man  (kills),  or  puts  him  in  prison  (enslaves),  or  takes  his 
money  in  taxation  (robs),  or  as  a policeman  or  detective  de- 
ceives and  traps  him  (lies),^^ — though  all  these  things  done  on 
his  own  account  would  be  immoral.  The  fact  that  he  acts  for 
the  group,  in  the  interest  of  the  group,  takes  away  shame. 
There  is  a double  standard,  hut  no  contradiction ; as  a group- 
organ,  he  shares  the  innocence  of  the  group.  It  is  so  with  the 
soldier,  so  with  the  head  of  the  state — they  cannot  be  judged 
as  is  the  private  citizen.  Nietzsche  remarks  that  the  antag- 
onism of  duties,  comes  to  a head  in  the  shepherd  of  the 
flock — he  must  be  both  friendly,  peaceable,  protecting,  i.e., 
to  those  within  its  circle,  and  hostile,  warlike,  merciless,  i.e.,  to 
those  without.^  In  this  connection  I may  mention  his  interest- 
ing suggestion  (in  keeping  with  his  general  view  of  the  priority 
of  social  to  individual  life),  that  some  of  the  feelings  which  we 
commonly  call  individual  or  even  egoistic  are  not  really  so,  but 
are  social  and  have  been  socially  trained.  For  instance,  one 
hates  more,  more  violently,  more  innocently  as  a patriot  than 
as  an  individual;  one  sacrifices  more  quickly  for  one’s  family 
or  for  a church  or  a party  than  for  oneself;  the  strongest 
feeling  which  many  have  is  honor,  and  honor  is  a social  standard, 
meaning  at  bottom  what  is  honored.^®  So-called  egoistic  im- 
pulses are  often  really  impulses  to  social  formations.  Here  is 
a person  who  is  covetous  and  heaps  up  property  (the  impulse 
of  the  family)  ; here  is  another  who  has  markedly  the  sex- 
impulse  (something  which  serves  the  race),  and  still  another 
who  is  vain  (emphasizes  the  community  by  estimating  himself 
according  to  its  measurements).  We  speak  of  the  egoism  of 
the  conqueror,  the  statesman,  and  so  on — they  do  think  only  of 
themselves,  but  of  “themselves”  so  far  as  the  ego  is  developed 
by  an  impulse  which  at  the  same  time  builds  or  fashions  a 
group  (cf.  the  egoism  of  mothers,  of  teachers).^®  It  may  be 
that  the  individual,  apart  from  some  kind  of  group-function 
and  training,  is  a very  limited  quantity. 

And  now  I come  to  a kind  of  paradox  in  Nietzsche’s 
analysis.  Societies,  as  we  have  seen,  set  up,  whether  con- 

'^Werke,  XIII,  195-6;  cf.  XII,  115.  Werke,  XII,  116,  § 229. 

“ Will  to  Power,  § 284.  Ibid.,  XII,  117,  § 230. 


222 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


sciously  or  unconsciously,  moral  codes  which  correspond  to  the 
conditions  of  their  existence  and  power;  they  say  that  individ- 
uals shall  take  their  standard  rather  than  their  own — they  shape 
them  after  their  mold  and  seem  almost  to  negate  a separate 
and  individual  being;  and  yet  it  is  all  part  of  a process  by 
which  independent  individuals  are  made.  The  result  may  even 
be  opposed — and  yet  it  comes.  How  it  comes  is  suggested  in 
a passage  which  takes  the  form  of  inquiries,  as  follows:  (1) 
How  far  may  sympathetic  and  communal  feelings  be  a lower, 
preparatory  stage,  at  a time  when  personal  self-feeling  and 
individual  initiative  in  valuing  are  not  yet  possible.  (2)  How 
far  may  the  elevation  of  the  collective  self-feeling,  the  group’s 
pride  of  distance,  its  sense  of  unlikeness  tq  other  groups,  its 
aversion  to  accommodation  and  reconciliation  be  a school  for 
individual  self-feeling — particularly  to  the  extent  it  forces  the 
individual  to  represent  the  pride  of  the  whole — for  he  must 
speak  and  act  with  an  extreme  self-respect,  if  he  represents  the 
community  in  person  (just  as  when  the  individual  feels  himself 
an  instrument  and  mouthpiece  of  the  divinity).  (3)  How  far 
may  these  forms  of  depersonalization  (Entselbstung)  lend  to 
the  person  in  fact  an  enormous  importance — higher  powers 
using  him  (cf.  the  religious  awe  of  himself  which  the  prophet 
or  poet  feels).  (4)  How  far  may  responsibility  for  the  whole 
beget  and  authorize  a wide  outlook,  a strict  and  fearful  hand, 
a presence  of  mind  and  coolness,  a greatness  of  bearing  and 
demeanor,  which  the  individual  could  not  allow  to  himself  on 
his  own  account.  Nietzsche’s  conclusion  is  that  collective  self- 
feelings may  be  regarded  as  the  great  preparatory  school  for 
personal  sovereignty,  and  that  the  higher  (vornehme)  class  in 
any  group  is  the  one  which  inherits  the  etfeet  of  the  training.^^ 
The  point,  I need  hardly  say,  is  that  standing  for  the  organism, 
the  individual  comes  to  share  its  attributes — its  sense  of  itself 
and  of  distinctness  from  all  outside  it,  its  freedom  to  do  what 
it  will,  its  determination  to  follow  its  own  law.  He  has  these 
feelings  first  representatively,  but  later  on  his  own  account,  the 
distinction  between  what  he  is  and  what  he  has  been  made 
passing  out  of  view.  A strong  free  man,  Nietzsche  remarks  in 
another  passage,  feels  in  himself  as  over  against  everything 
Will  to  Power,  § 773;  cf.  Werke,  XII,  114-6,  § 228. 


SOCIAL  MEANING  OF  MORALITY 


223 


else  the  attributes  of  an  organism,  e.g.,  self-regulation,  repara- 
tive power,  assimilation,  secretion  and  excretion,  metabolic 
power,  regeneration,  i.e.,  the  equivalents  of  these  physiological 
processes ; but  it  is  a mistake,  he  adds,  to  suppose  that  they 
belonged  to  him  at  the  start — he  was  at  first  a part  of  a whole, 
an  organ,  and  only  as  such  did  the  first  stirrings  of  the  general 
organic  qualities  come  to  him.  That  is,  individuals  are  not 
born  free  and  sovereign,  they  become  so  [to  whatever  extent 
they  do  become  so]  as  the  result  of  a social  process.  Hence  the 
state  did  not  originally  oppress  individuals — they  as  yet 
failed  to  exist.^®  “The  amceba-like  unity  of  the  individual 
comes  at  the  end ! and  the  philosophers  started  with  it,  as  if 
it  was  already  there  All  the  same  individuals — organic 
unities  in  themselves — do  come  at  last.  Society  by  its  own 
processes  breeds  those  more  or  less  independent  of  society,  and 
morality  itself  helps  train  the  future  super-moral  or  auton- 
omous individual — this  last  we  shall  see  more  clearly  later  on.^“ 

IV 

The  conception  of  morality  as  entirely  a social  thing  is 
perhaps  still  the  dominant  one.  Nietzsche  remarks  that  the 
early  ages  of  mankind  have  done  more  to  fix  its  character  than 
the  later  historical  epochs®^ — and  this  appears  to  hold  of  its 
intellectual  conceptions  as  well.  Hegel  speaks  entirely  in  the 
spirit  of  the  antique  conception  of  morality,  when  he  says  that 
“the  individual  has  his  truth,  real  existence,  and  ethical  status 
only  in  being  a member  of  the  state,”  that  “the  striving  for 
a morality  of  one’s  own  is  futile  and  by  its  very  nature  im- 
possible of  attainment” ; and  again  when  he  says,  “In  respect  to 
morality,  the  saying  of  one  of  the  wisest  men  of  antiquity  is 
the  true  one — to  be  moral  is  to  live  in  accordance  with  the  moral 
tradition  of  one’s  country.”®  The  latest,  or,  at  least,  best 
hook  which  America  has  produced  on  ethics — Dewey  and  Tufts ’s 
Ethics — has,  if  not  the  same,  a similar  conception.  We  read 
there  of  “moral,  i.e.,  socialized  interests”;  we  hear  that  in 

~Werke,  XII,  1 10-2. 

IMd.,  XII,  113-4,  § 226. 

In  the  first  part  of  Chapter  XX. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 18;  cf.  Genealogy  etc.,  Ill,  § 9. 

"^Philosophy  of  Right  (tr.  by  Dyde),  Part  III,  150,  and  Werke,  I, 
389.  I borrow  these  references  from  Dewey  and  Tufts,  op.  cit.,  pp.  225-6. 


224 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


progressive  as  truly  as  in  stationary  society  “the  moral  and 
the  social  are  one”;  that  though  the  virtues  of  the  individual 
in  a progressive  society  are  more  reflective  than  in  customary 
society,  “they  are  just  as  socially  conditioned  in  their  origin 
and  as  socially  directed  in  their  manifestations”;  that  there  is  no 
attitude  “which  does  not  need  to  be  socially  valued  or  judged” ; 
that  the  reconstructed  individual,  who  is  necessary  in  a time 
of  individuals,  is  one  “who  is  individual  in  choice,  in  feeling, 
in  responsibility,  and  at  the  same  time  social  in  what  he  regards 
as  good,  in  his  sympathies  and  in  his  purposes,”  that  “other- 
wise individualism  means  progress  toward  the  immoral.”®^ 
According  to  such  a view,  the  action  of  an  individual  who  pur- 
sued a good  not  primarily  social,  but  personal,  who  looked 
upon  society  not  as  an  end,  but  rather  as  a means  to  his  own 
ends,  and  who  marked  out  his  own  path  in  pursuing  those  ends, 
would  hardly  come  under  the  head  of  morality  at  all.  Pro- 
fessor Sumner,  in  his  significantly  entitled  book.  Folkways, 
holds  even  more  strictly  to  the  primitive  and  historic  concep- 
tion, and  doubts  whether  morality  in  any  other  sense  can  be 
made  out.  He  observes,  “The  modern  peoples  have  made 
morals  and  morality  a separate  domain,  by  the  side  of  religion, 
philosophy,  and  polities.  In  that  sense  morals  is  an  impossible 
and  unreal  category.  It  has  no  existence  and  can  have  none. 
The  word  ‘moral’  means  what  belongs  or  appertains  to  the 
mores.  Therefore  the  category  of  morals  can  never  be  defined 
without  reference  to  something  outside  of  itself.”^  It  is  im- 
portant for  us  to  keep  in  mind  this  older  meaning  of  the  term, 
for  when  Nietzsche  makes  animadversions  on  morality,  as  he 
so  frequently  does,  it  is  this  kind  of  morality — what  he  calls 
Heerden-Moral — that  he  has  primarily  in  mind.  In  another, 
shall  I say  ? more  ideal,  certainly  more  general  sense,  he  so  little 
attacks  morality,  that  he  offers  a morality  of  his  own.  Because 
of  these  varying  senses  in  which  he  uses  the  word,  he  easily 
confuses  us,  if  we  do  not  take  a little  trouble  to  see  what  he 
means.  Sometimes  he  attacks  morality  without  qualification, 
but  this  is  only  because  already  in  common  speech — and  often 
in  that  of  scholars  as  well — morality  and  social  morality  are 
absolutely  identified. 

"Op.  cit.,  pp.  300,  434-5,  427,  75-6.  "Op.  cit.,  p.  37. 


SOCIAL  MEANING  OF  MORALITY  225 

The  fact  is  that  not  merely  the  historic  conception,  but  the 
feelings  going  along  with  it  still  dominate  among  us.  Most  of 
us,  Nietzsche  notes,  still  follow  social  standards  rather  than 
our  own.®®  A cold  look,  a wry  mouth,  from  those  among  whom 
we  are  educated,  is  still  feared  by  the  strongest;  and  what  is 
it  really  that  we  fear?  Isolation.®®*'  We  get  on  with  a bad 
conscience  better  than  with  a bad  reputation.®’^  Indeed,  con- 
science itself  was  originally  of  social  shaping — one  condemned 
in  himself  what  others  condemned ; ®®  and  it  is  still  largely  so. 
Professor  Dewey  even  says,  “All  men  require  social  standards 
in  their  conduct:  the  consent  of  their  kind.  No  man  ever  lived 
with  the  exclusive  approval  of  his  own  conscience.  ” ®®  If  it  is 
urged  that  men  have  stood  alone  with  God  approving,  this 
would  not  be  an  exception,  for  God  is  the  socius  in  this  case, 
and  the  question  may  be  raised  how  far  the  social  needs  of 
those  who  felt  obliged  to  stand  alone  have  tended  to  create,  or 
at  least  sustain,  the  faith  in  this  invisible  society.* 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 104. 

'‘^Joyful  Science,  §60. 

" Ibid.,  § 52. 

“ Cf.  Mixed  Opinions,  etc.,  § 90,  and  the  close  of  Joyful  Science, 
§ 149. 

"*  The  Influence  of  Darwinism  on  Philosophy  and  Other  Essays,  p.  75. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


CRITICISM  OF  MORALITY  (Cont.).  HAVE  EVIL  AND 
CRUELTY  NO  PLACE  IN  THE  WORLD? 

I 

A PRIME  category  of  morality  is  good  and  evil.  Every  social 
group  makes  the  distinction  in  some  form;  its  power  and  life 
depend  upon  its  doing  so — it  must  favor  what  it  feels  to  be 
helpful  to  it  and  oppose  what  is  harmful,  for  good  and  evil 
have  originally  this  utilitarian  significance.  So  strong  do  the 
instinctive  approbation  and  condemnation  become  that  good 
is  easily  regarded  as  good  per  se  and  evil  as  evil  per  se — that 
is,  the  relativity  of  the  conceptions  is  forgotten,  and  a chasm 
is  put  between  them.  Good  becomes  something  eternally  dif- 
ferent from  evil ; there  is  no  passing  of  one  into  the  other,  par- 
ticularly of  evil  into  good.  In  other  words,  a moralistic  scheme 
of  things,  an  incipient  metaphysics  tends  to  arise ; and  just  the 
most  earnest  and  idealistic  moral  natures  go  this  way.  The 
view  is  one  which  we  have  seen  Nietzsche  questioning  in  his 
previous  period,^  but  the  questioning  is  now  more  extended  and 
thoroughgoing.  It  is  difficult  to  separate  here  his  analysis  from 
his  conclusions,  and  I shall  scarcely  attempt  to.  His  view  of 
evil  I shall  particularly  consider;  what  he  says  of  good  will 
be  taken  up  more  at  length  later. 

The  word  he  commonly  uses  is  hose.  It  is  not  the  same  as 
iihel  (which  implies  a more  general  and  perhaps  more  objective 
judgment),^  or  as  schlecht  (which  more  or  less  savors  of  con- 
tempt). Professor  Riehl  remarks  that  hose  is  a peculiarly  Ger- 
man word,  wanting  in  other  Aryan  languages.^  In  any  case  it  has 
a peculiar  shade  of  meaning,  to  which  it  is  well  to  attend.  The 
idea  is  of  active  harmfulness,  along  with  intent  to  harm  (real 

’ See  ante,  p.  119. 

“ Cf.,  for  instance,  the  use  of  iibel  in  Will  to  Power,  §§  870,  928. 

® Op.  cit.,  p.  117. 


226 


EVIL  AND  CRUELTY 


227 


or  suspected) — our  English  expressions  “evil  eye,”  “evilly  dis- 
posed” suggest  it  to  us.  The  judgment  is  from  the  standpoint 
of  the  person  affected — as  Nietzsche  remarks,  it  is  a judgment 
on  others.  The  actor  may  be  without  evil  intent  in  fact,  but 
he  seems  base  to  the  other  party  (the  judgment  easily  extending 
to  non-sentient  or  non-active  things — if  there  are  any  such,  to 
the  mind  of  primitive  man).  If,  says  Nietzsche,  we  speak  of 
anything  in  ourselves  as  bose,  it  is  a figure  of  speech — what 
we  mean  is  that  there  is  something  in  us  (a  dangerous  impulse, 
for  example)  which  we  as  it  were  separate  from  ourselves,  and 
say  that  it  shall  not  play  the  master.^  Translators  of  Nietzsche 
sometimes  render  bose  by  “wicked,”  and  this  would  not  be 
out  of  the  way,  if  “wicked”  kept  its  original  etymological 
signification  of  “witch-like,”  but  so  far  as  it  suggests  depravity, 
profligacy,  and  vice,  it  is  wide  of  the  mark.  A few  examples 
of  his  use  of  the  word  will  make  us  see  what  he  essentially 
means.^  He  speaks,  for  instance,  of  the  Apostle  Paul,  before 
his  conversion,  as  hard  and  bose  toward  the  transgressors  and 
doubters  of  the  Jewish  law,®  and  of  Peter  as  turning  on  Satan 
with  the  boses  word,  ‘ ‘ Thou  liar.  ’ ’ ® He  characterizes  as 
boshaft  the  irony  of  Socrates  toward  those  who  had  the  conceit 
of  knowledge.'^  The  Bible  speaks  of  God  as  “angry  with  the 
wicked  every  day” — so  far  then  he  is  bose  toward  them  (and 
Jesus  was  bose  toward  the  Pharisees).  Nietzsche  refers  to  the 
supreme  kindness  (Giite)  of  Jesus,  but  says  also,  “he  was  the 
bbseste  of  all  men.”®  He  calls  the  early  Christians  bose  to  the 
old  Greco-Roman  view;  indeed  he  pronounces  Christianity’s 
attitude  toward  antiquity  in  general  the  topmost  reach  of  de- 
famatory Bosheit.^  He  himself  wanted  to  write  a boses  book^" 
[i.e.,  one  that  would  be  harmful  and  destructive  in  certain 

*Werke,  XIV,  64,  §124;  cf.  XII,  91,  §181  {omnia  naturalia  af- 
firmanti  sunt  indifferentia,  neganti  vero  vel  abstinenti  aut  mala  aut 
bona ) . 

° Dawn  of  Day,  § 68. 

* Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 345. 

’’  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 212. 

* WerJce,  XIII,  305,  § 746. 

^Genealogy  etc.,  I,  §8;  Werke,  XII,  171,  § 354. 

10  'Werke,  XIV,  352,  § 213.  Cf.  what  he  says  of  his  Bosheit  in  writing 
Dawn  of  Day  (Werke,  XIV,  401,  § 276),  and  the  remark  of  Karl  Joel, 
Nietzsche  und  die  Romantik,  p.  135,  d propos  of  a passage  from  Friedrich 
Schlegel. 


228 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


directions — he  could  not  have  said  an  ubles  or  scMechtes  book]. 
He  had  known  in  his  own  history,  he  tells  us,  how  to  be  hoshaft 
to  conclusions  which  are  bred  by  sickness  or  loneliness.^^  The 
hose  or  hoshafte  attitude  is,  of  course,  usually  somber,  but  it 
may  be  light  and  gay:  Emerson  says  that  for  the  great  who 
eradicate  old  and  foolish  churches  and  nations — a hoses  work 
surely  from  the  standpoint  of  the  churches  and  nations  affected 
— ‘ ‘ all  must  be  as  gay  as  the  song  of  a canary,  ’ ’ Contemplat- 

ing the  part  which  enmity  and  destruction  have  to  play  in  the 
world,  recognizing  that  it  is  as  needful  and  as  beneficent  as 
that  of  love  and  creation,  Nietzsche  makes  Zarathustra  say, 
“to  the  highest  goodness  belongs  the  highest  Bose,”  “man 
must  become  better  and  hoser  [not  schlechter] — so  do  I 
teach.  ’ ’ 

The  evil  which  Nietzsche  particularly  considers  is  then 
essentially  the  same  as  the  hostile,  harmful,  destructive,  or  at 
least  threatening,  fear-inspiring — this  from  the  standpoint  of 
those  who  suffer  or  fear  the  harm.  That  social  groups  should 
make  the  judgment  in  relation  to  themselves  was  natural  and 
inevitable.  Living  uncertainly  and  precariously  as  they  did, 
it  was  absolutely  necessary  for  them  to  note  what  helped  or 
harmed  them — particularly  what  harmed.  Fear  of  evil  indeed 
predominated  in  the  minds  of  primitive  men — and,  as  they  did 
not  know  what  to  expect,  accident,  the  uncertain,  the  sudden 
were  forms  of  it.^*  To  diminish  such  fear  was  part  of  the  func- 
tion of  the  reign  of  mores,  for  through  it  members  of  a group 
became  regular  and  calculable  to  one  another — this  though  mem- 
bers of  foreign  groups  were  still  evil,  i.e.,  incalculable  to  them; 
and  members  of  their  own  group,  so  far  as  they  anywise  stood 
apart  and  were  peculiar,  were  regarded  in  much  the  same  light. 
Men  wanted  to  be  able  to  relax  their  tension.  One  is  evil  in 
their  eyes,  even  apart  from  actual  harm,  if  one  does  not  allow 
them  to  do  this,  and  one  is  good  who  does — particularly  then 
the  kindly  intentioned,  benevolent  man,  whose  very  look  dis- 
arms suspicion.  If — says  Nietzsche,  speaking  now  generally — 
we  reckon  up  the  qualities  of  the  good  man,  why  do  they  please 
us?  And  he  answers.  Because  we  have  no  need  of  warring 

” Werfce,  XIV,  387.  ^^Zarathustra,  II,  xii;  IV,  xiii,  §13. 

“Essay  on  “Heroism.”  '*  Will  to  Power,  § 1019. 


EVIL  AND  CRUELTY 


229 


against  him,  no  need  to  exercise  distrust,  to  be  wary,  to  collect 
and  discipline  ourselves ; our  indolence,  good-nature,  levity 
have  a pleasant  day.^®  At  each  stage  of  civilization,  the  “good 
man”  is  one  who  is  undangerous  and  useful  at  the  same  time — 
a sort  of  mean:  he  need  not  be  feared  and  yet  cannot  be 
despised.^® 

“Good”  and  “evil”  have  thus  an  entirely  legitimate  sig- 
nificance; if  the  judgments  were  not  made  and  the  two  things 
held  quite  apart,  groups  would  be  liable  to  perish  by  the  way. 
But  to  make  the  judgments  absolute,  to  condemn  evil  uncon- 
ditionally and  wish  to  banish  it  from  the  world,  to  see  no  place 
for  it  in  the  total  scheme  of  things  and  want  only  good  in  its 
place,  is  another  matter.  Such  a view  may  be  late  in  develop- 
ing, it  is  conditioned  on  reflective  habits  and  an  ardent  moral 
sense,  but  it  is  almost  certain  to  rise  sooner  or  later  and  exists 
more  or  less  today.  Nietzsche  questions  it.  I might  put  his 
interrogatory  paradoxically  thus,  Is  evil  necessarily  evil  ? — 
or  more  simply.  Is  evil  in  one  sense  necessarily  evil  in  an- 
other?— or  using  the  German  words  Is  the  Bose  necessarily 
iihelf 

n 

Nietzsche  answers  by  observing  facts  of  psychology  and  his- 
tory. For  instance,  he  notes  that  what  inspires  fear  and  may 
do  harm  may  be  a stimulant  to  men.  If,  he  once  says,  we  open 
our  eye  and  conscience  to  the  question  where  and  how  the 
plant  “man”  has  hitherto  grown  most  vigorously,  we  discover 
that  to  this  end  danger  had  to  increase  enormously  for  him, 
that  his  power  of  invention  and  dissimulation  (his  “mind”)  had 
to  become  subtle  and  daring  through  long  hardship  and  com- 
pulsion, that  his  will  to  live  had  to  rise  to  an  unconditional 
will  for  power — in  other  words  and  more  particularly,  that 
severity,  violence,  slavery,  danger  in  the  street  and  in  the  heart, 
that  what  is  evil,  fearful,  tyrannical,  predacious,  snakelike  may 
serve  for  the  elevation  of  the  species  as  well  as  their  opposites.'® 

‘’76icZ.,  § 319. 

“/bid.,  § 933. 

I let  iibel  here  stand  for  the  simple  calamitous  and  undesirable 
(doing  so  under  correction). 

“ Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 44;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 957. 


2S0 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


He  accordingly  draws  the  inference  that  if  a higher  form  of 
humanity  is  to  come  in  the  future,  great  and  terrible  odds  will 
be  required — the  superman  will  need  for  an  antagonist  a super- 
dragon.^®  One  application  of  the  general  idea  is  made  that 
decidedly  jars  on  us,  living  in  an  age  of  intellectual  tolerance 
as  we  do.  In  speaking  of  what  we  owe  to  the  Christian  church, 
he  says  that  its  very  intolerance  helped  to  render  the  European 
mind  fine  and  supple,  and  that  in  our  democratic  age  with  free- 
dom of  the  press,  thought  becomes  “plump.”  He  thinks  that 
the  ancient  polis  was  like-minded  with  the  church  and  produced 
similar  beneficial  effects,  while  in  the  Roman  Empire,  when 
freedom  of  belief  and  unbelief  came  to  be  permitted,  mind 
coarsened  and  degenerated.  He  speaks  of  the  distinguished  ap- 
pearance which  men  like  Leibnitz  and  Abelard,  Montaigne, 
Descartes  and  Pascal  present  under  the  r%ime  of  the  church.®® 
Freedom  of  the  press,  he  repeats,  ruins  style  and  finally  the 
mind.  “Galiani  was  aware  of  it  a hundred  years  ago.  ‘Free- 
dom of  thought’  ruins  the  thinker.  Between  hell  and  heaven 
and  in  danger  of  persecutions,  banishments,  eternal  damnations, 
and  ungracious  looks  of  kings  and  ladies  the  mind  was  lithe 
and  bold:  alas!  what  is  mind  becoming  today In  brief, 
danger  and  enmity  are  good  for  man.  So  strongly  does  he 
feel  this,  that  he  regards  it  as  no  more  desirable  that  “good” 
men  alone  should  inherit  the  earth,  than  that  there  should  be 
uninterrupted  good  weather.®®  With  blended  satire  and  serious- 
ness he  says  that  to  ask  that  every  one  should  be  a “good  man,” 
a social  animal,  blue-eyed,  benevolent,  a “beautiful  soul,”  or 
as  Herbert  Spencer  wishes,  altruistic,  would  strip  existence  of 
its  grand  character  and  reduce  mankind  to  a miserable  China- 
dom.®®  “As  the  tree  needed  the  storm,  that  it  might  become 
strong,  so  evil  is  necessary  to  the  growth  of  life.” 

But  he  goes  further.  Not  only  is  evil  a stimulant  to  life, 
it  is  a constituent  of  the  life-process  itself.  That  which  we  call 
evil  in  an  animal  may  be  for  it  a condition  of  existence — its 

•“  Zarathustra,  II,  xxi. 

20  \Yerke,  XIII,  310-1 ; cf.  the  general  reflections  in  Beyond  Good  and 
Evil,  § 188. 

^^Werke,  XIV,  206,  §412. 

“ Will  to  Power,  § 386. 

Ecce  Homo,  IV,  §4;  cf.  Joyful  Science,  § 373;  Twilight  of  the 
Idols,  ix,  § 37. 


EVIL  AND  CRUELTY 


231 


health  and  strength  ma^"  lie  therein.^  The  most  beautiful  and 
powerful  beast  of  prey  has  the  strongest  atfeets ; its  hatred  and 
inordinate  desire  (Gier)  are  needed  in  this  strength  for  its 
health,  and,  when  satisfied,  develope  it  magnificently.®  The 
evil  in  ourselves,  the  things  we  are  afraid  of,  are  sources  of 
strength,  if  we  know  how  to  use  them.  Envy  and  greed  are 
capable  of  utilization — what  would  have  become  of  man  without 
them?  Genius  is  egoistic,  nourishing  itself  on  others,  ruling 
them,  exploiting  them.®  In  the  pursuit  of  scientific  truth  we 
have  to  be  now  hose,  now  good  toward  things — to  exercise  jus- 
tice, passion,  and  coldness  in  turn.  At  one  time  by  sympathy, 
at  another  by  violence  we  get  results ; reverence  for  the  mystery 
of  things  brings  one  person  forward,  indiscretion  and  roguery 
in  explaining  mysteries  another.^  “Even  for  knowing  I need 
all  my  impulses,  the  good  and  the  evil,  and  should  quickly 
reach  the  limit  if  I were  not  willing  to  be  hostile,  mistrustful, 
cruel,  insidious,  revengeful,  hypocritical  {mich  verstellend) , 
etc.,  toward  things.”®  There  are  times  when  we  need  to  be 
positively  malevolent,  when  a mild  aversion  leaves  us  weak  and 
ineffective.  Nietzsche  comments  on  Goethe’s  Faust,  a dissatis- 
fied but  after  all  too  easily  compromising  kind  of  man,  in 
danger,  like  Germans  in  general,  of  becoming  a Philistine  when 
he  leaves  the  world  of  thought  and  contemplation  and  enters 
that  of  action;  “a  little  more  musclar  force  and  natural  wild- 
ness in  him,  and  all  his  virtues  would  become  greater.”  He 
adds  that  Goethe  apparently  knew  where  the  danger  and  weak- 
ness of  his  hero  lay,  and  hints  at  it  in  words  he  puts  into  the 
mouth  of  Jarno  to  Wilhelm  Meister:  “You  are  vexed  and 
bitter,  that  is  fine  and  good;  but  when  you  once  become  right 
hose,  it  will  be  still  better.  ’ ’ ® Nietzsche  puts  it  broadly, 
“There  must  be  enmity  in  a man  if  he  is  to  come  out  in  quite 
lordly  fashion,  all  evil  affects  must  be  there  ” ; ® he  even  says. 


“ Werke,  XIII,  147,  § 345. 

Ibid.,  XII,  86,  § 170. 

^^Ibid.,  XII,  123,  § 243. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 432. 

Werke,  XII,  86-7;  cf.  XIV,  98,  §210;  Joyful  Science,  § 333;  Zara^ 
thustra.  III,  xii,  § 7. 

“ Schopenhauer  as  Educator,”  sect.  4. 

Werke,  XI,  240,  § 198. 


232 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


“the  Bose  is  man’s  best  force — not,  indeed,  the  goal,  as 
Professor  Riehl  observes,  but  the  way  to  the  goal  ® [i.e.,  a part 
of  the  way]. 

And  when  we  turn  from  the  individual  and  contemplate  the 
general  life  and  movement  of  the  world,  we  see  (Nietzsche 
thinks)  that  destruction  has  its  part  to  play  there  as  well  as 
construction  or  conservation — and  malevolence,  the  Bose,  is  only 
a name  for  the  destructive  force  and  spirit.^^  It  is  necessary 
to  distinguish  between  what  upholds  a group,  and  what  ad- 
vances the  species,  raises  the  type.^*  The  social  virtues — mutual 
consideration  and  friendliness,  respect  for  authority,  reverence 
for  law  and  custom — strengthen  and  solidify  an  existing  group, 
but  they  do  not  change  its  character ; and  if  there  is  to  be 
change,  either  the  group  must  be  refashioned,  or  the  new  type 
be  reached  through  its  disintegration  or  destruction.  In  the 
one  case  as  in  the  other,  those  who  attempt  to  make  the  change 
seem  evil  forces  to  the  group  as  it  is.  A foreign  conqueror  is 
the  very  impersonation  of  evil  to  a group,  and  those  who  pro- 
pound strange  ideas  at  home  are  almost  equally  objects  of  sus- 
picion and  dread.  Moreover,  they  may  he  spirits  of  destruction. 
To  what  extent  wish  to  benefit  mingles  with  malice  in  individual 
cases  may  be  difficult  to  determine — but  Nietzsche  thinks  that 
malice  plays  its  part.  Departure  from  ancient  custom  has 
often  come,  he  remarks,  not  so  much  from  better  intelligence  as 
from  strong  malicious  impulses — the  heretic  being  something 
like  a witch  in  the  pleasure  he  takes  in  harming  what  is  estab- 
lished (whether  men  or  opinions).^®  The  instinct  for  seeing 
things  dissolve,  wanton  skepticism,  pleasure  in  adventure,  even 
personal  spite  and  revenge  have  contributed  to  progress,  and 
it  must  be  forgiven  those  so  inspired,  if  on  occasion  they  posed 
as  “martyrs  to  the  truth.”*  And  whether  initiators  of  change 
are  malicious,  or  only  wish  change  in  order  that  their  group 
may  be  better  preserved,'’  they  seem  hose  to  those  near  them — 
and  actually  are  hose  to  things  as  they  are.  Indeed,  if  change 

” Zarathustra,  IV,  xiii,  § 5. 

Op.  cit.,  pp.  97-8. 

“ Cf.  Werke,  XII,  86,  § 170. 

^'Joyful  Science,  §4;  cf.  Werke,  XIII,  142,  §329. 

•'  Joyful  Science,  § 35. 

= “ Will  to  Power,  § 45. 


EVIL  AND  CRUELTY 


233 


is  a part  of  the  normal  working  of  the  world,  malevolent  as 
well  as  benevolent  impulses  belong  of  necessity  to  its  inner 
machinery.  One  who  is  pious  to  the  past  and  one  who  is  sin- 
cerely impious  alike  have  their  place.^^  Destroying  a part  of 
becoming,  endangering  people  and  their  views,  or  even  putting 
an  end  to  them,  as  necessary  from  any  high  point  of  view  as 
being  useful  to  them  and  building  them  up,  destroying  values 
and  standards  of  value  too,  destroying  moralities,  religions — 
such  is  the  logic  of  the  development  of  things,  to  Nietzsche’s 
mind.^  A perfect  adjustment  of  everything  to  everything  else 
and  to  itself  (as  is  suggested  by  Spencer)  is  an  erroneous  ideal — 
it  would  involve  the  deepest  impoverishment  of  existence.^®  As 
it  is,  adjustment  may  go  too  far,  groups  last  too  long,  the  social 
virtues  be  too  supreme — the  harm  of  the  virtues,  Nietzsche 
ironically  remarks,  is  something  that  has  not  yet  been  pointed 
out ! “ But  the  evil  dispositions  are  well-lodged  in  the  world, 
and  he  takes  comfort  in  the  fact.^ 

So  far  does  he  go  in  this  direction  that  he  uses  language 
at  times  almost  like  that  of  a theodicy.  Good  and  evil  seem  to 
him  obverse  sides  of  the  strong  force  that  keeps  the  world 
moving  and  alive;  they  go  together — the  root  of  both  (save 
where  “good”  really  spells  “weak”)  being  strength.^ If,  as 
is  urged  by  those  who  investigate  morality  from  a physiologico- 
historical  standpoint,  the  survival  of  the  moral  instincts  proves 
that  they  are  useful  for  the  preservation  of  the  species,  by  the 
same  token  the  survival  of  the  unmoral  instincts  proves  their 
utility — only  that  the  will  in  their  case  is  not  simply  a will  for 
preservation,  but  for  advance,  for  something  more.^^  Nothing 
that  exists  ought  to  be  suppressed,  nothing  is  superfluous.^  He 
even  speaks  of  a new  justice  to  evil  and  evil  men.  “Also  the 
evil  man  {der  Bose),  also  the  unhappy  man,  also  the  man  who 
is  an  exception  shall  have  his  philosophy,  his  good  right,  his 

Mixed  Opinions,  etc.,  § 93. 

=«Cf.  Werlce,  XIII,  221,  § 527;  XIV,  350,  § 208;  Joyful  Science,  §4; 
Ecce  Homo,  IV,  § 2. 

Werlce,  XII,  86,  § 170;  cf.  Joyful  Science,  § I. 

Werke,  XII,  93,  §§  186-7. 

Ibid.,  XIII,  147,  § 343;  cf.  Zarathustra,  IV,  xiii,  §5;  Will  to 
Power,  § 747;  Werke,  XII,  134,  § 260. 

Werke,  XIII,  147,  § 344. 

Ibid.,  XIII,  141-2,  § 329. 

“ Ecce  Homo,  III,  i,  § 2. 


234 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


sunshine!  It  is  not  pity  here  that  is  needed  . . . but  ‘a  new 
justice.’  The  ideal  philosopher  of  the  future  will  exercise 
“the  great  justice”  and  courteously  protect  and  defend  what- 
ever is  misunderstood  and  defamed,  whether  it  be  God  or 
Devil.'’®  With  all  this  defense  of  evil,  however,  good  has  the 
supreme  place  in  Nietzsche’s  estimation.  From  this  standpoint 
he  says  that  the  task  of  culture  is  to  take  all  that  is  fearful 
into  service,  singly,  tentatively,  step  by  step,  although  till  it  is 
strong  enough  to  do  this,  it  must  needs  fight  or  even  curse  it.’^ 
In  short,  evil  is  not  to  be  destroyed,  but  turned  to  account.  He 
even  makes  the  venturesome  statement,  “all  good  is  an  evil  of 
yesterday  that  has  been  made  serviceable.  ” I have  already 
cited  his  language  about  himself:  “I  am  by  far  the  most  fearful 
man  that  ever  existed,  which  does  not  exclude  my  becoming  the 
most  beneficent.  ’ ’ ® 

in 

Nietzsche  enlarges  on  the  aspect  of  fearfulness  which  great 
men  in  particular  may  have.  We  do  not  separate,  he  says,  the 
great  from  the  fearful.®  Great  men  were  so  through  the 
strength  of  their  affects ; a measure  of  individuals  and  peoples 
is  how  far  they  can  unchain  the  most  fearful  impulses  without 
going  to  pieces — turning  them  to  their  advantage  instead  and 
making  them  bear  fruit  in  act  and  work.®’  Zarathustra  fears 
that  the  half-formed  higher  men  who  come  to  him  would  call 
his  superman  devil,  as  there  would  be  something  terrible  in 
his  goodness.®^  In  Napoleon  the  higher  and  the  fearful  man 
were  united ; the  mightiest  instinct,  that  of  life  itself,  the  desire 
to  rule,  affirmed  itself  in  him,®®  though  he  was  corrupted  by  the 
means  he  had  to  use  and  lost  noblesse  of  eharacter.®  The  good, 
the  noble,  and  the  great  (all  different  categories)  rarely  come 

Joyful  Science,  § 289. 

'"Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §213;  cf.  Werke,  XIII,  118,  § 161;  Will  to 
Power,  § 1015. 

” Will  to  Power,  § 1025;  cf.  § 896. 

" Ibid.,  § 1025. 

Ecce  Homo,  IV,  § 2. 

Will  to  Power,  § 1015. 

"'Werke,  XII,  87,  §170;  XIII,  122,  § 272. 

Zarathustra,  II,  xxi. 

Will  to  Power,  § 1017. 

"'Ibid.,  § 1026. 


EVIL  AND  CRUELTY 


235 


together  in  the  same  individual — Nietzsche  could  point  to  but 
one  instance  in  the  nineteenth  century,  Mazzini.®  “Good” 
differs  from  “great”  because  in  the  great  man  [as  such]  the 
specific  qualities  of  life  in  general,  such  as  wrong,  deception, 
exploitation,  reach  their  maximum — although  when  they  have 
been  overpowering,  their  essential  nature  is  not  perceived  and 
they  are  then  construed  as  “good” — Carlyle  being  an  instance 
of  this  type  of  interpreter.^  ‘ ‘ The  high  individual  gives  himself 
on  occasion  all  the  rights  the  state  assumes — the  right  to  kill, 
to  annihilate,  to  play  the  spy,  etc.”;  men  of  this  type  have 
committed  all  crimes — whether  legally  so  or  not,  depending  on 
the  temper  of  the  times.®^  The  crimes  need  not  be  obvious 
animal  ones,  but  more  subtle,  such  as  treachery,  apostasy, 
denial;  higher  natures  none  the  less  commit  them.®^  “The 
great  are  not  understood : they  forgive  themselves  every 
crime,  but  no  weakness.”^®  In  other  words,  they  have 
and  make  their  own  law,  and  this  is  what  makes  them 
great — and  dreaded.  Nietzsche  quotes  a Chinese  proverb, 
“The  great  man  is  a public  misfortune” — and  he  thinks 
that  it  is  not  so  paradoxical  as  it  sounds.  At  bottom  all 
civilizations  have,  he  says,  this  deep  anxiety  about  the  “great 
man,”  though  the  Chinese  alone  confess  it — and  they  arrange 
their  institutions  “so  that  he  shall  arise  as  seldom,  and  grow 
up  under  as  unfavorable  conditions,  as  possible:  what  wonder! 
The  small  have  looked  out  for  themselves,  for  the  small ! ” “ 
I need  not  now  develope  the  compensatory  thought  of  the  ulti- 
mate beneficence  of  great  men ; it  has  been  already  stated,  and 
will  be  and  more  fully  again — I simply  note  the  evil  aspect 
which  for  the  time  being,  as  Nietzsche  thinks,  they  almost  inevi- 
tably wear.  “As  man  is  something  less  than  the  animal  and 
something  more  {Unthier  und  Vherthier) , the  higher  man  is 
something  less  and  something  more  than  man  {Unmensch  und 
tihermensch) : so  do  things  go  together.  With  every  growth 
of  man  in  the  direction  of  what  is  great  and  high  he  grows  also 
in  the  direction  of  what  is  deep  and  fearful ; the  one  result 
should  not  be  desired  without  the  other — or,  rather,  the  more 


Werke,  XII,  81,  § 156. 

Will  to  Power,  § 968. 

" Werke,  XIV,  80-1,  § 160;  78,  § 153. 


“ lUd.,  XIV,  79,  § 154. 
'»76td.,  XIV,  79,  § 153. 
"“/feid.,  XII,  119,  § 232. 


236  NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 

thoroughly  the  one  is  desired,  the  naore  thoroughly  the  other 
is  attained.”®^ 


IV 

If  a view  like  this  strikes  us  strangely,  still  more  strange 
will  seem  what  is  said  of  cruelty.  Cruelty  might  be  called  evil 
carried  to  the  highest  power;  it  is  “disinterested  malice,”  or, 
in  the  language  of  Spinoza,  sympathia  malevolens.^^  The  cruel 
man  not  only  produces  harm  and  suffering,  he  likes  to.  Nietz- 
sche remarks  that  one  may  cause  suffering  to  another,  without 
meaning  to — this  being  often  the  case  with  the  strong ; but  that 
weak  persons  evilly-minded  want  to  produce  suffering  and  to 
see  the  signs  of  it.®®  Still  the  strong  may  be  cruel  too. 

Probably  nothing  in  Nietzsche’s  teaching  has  given  more 
offense  than  his  supposed  advocacy  of  cruelty — Professor  Riehl 
speaks  of  it  as  a morbid  trait  in  his  character.®^  But  his  attitude 
in  the  first  instance  is  that  of  the  psychological  and  historical 
analyst.  There  are  no  signs  of  his  having  been  in  the  ordinary 
sense  of  the  word  a cruel  man.  I shall  speak  of  this  later  in 
discussing  his  views  of  pity.  Once  he  calls  it  our  hereditary 
sin  that  we  enjoy  little,  saying  that  if  we  learned  better  how 
to  enjoy,  we  should  unlearn  giving  and  meditating  pain  to 
others.®®  Plainly  this  indicates  no  natural  sympathy  with 
cruelty.  It  is  another  thing,  however,  to  say  that  there  is  no 
place  for  it  in  the  world. 

Cruelty  is  willing  infliction  of  suffering — or  at  least,  willing- 
ness to  witness  it.  Let  us  note  first  what  Nietzsche  says  of 
suffering,  then  of  the  infliction  of  it.  Schopenhauer  had  used 
the  facts  of  suffering  as  an  argument  against  the  world.  Chris- 
tianity also  finds  suffering  an  objection — its  ideal  is  of  an  order 
in  which  “there  shall  be  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow,  nor 
crying,  neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain.”®®  Nietzsche 


Will  to  Power,  § 1027. 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 6. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 371.  On  the  need  of  decadents  and  the  nervously 
weak  for  spice  (Pfeffer)  and  even  cruelty,  cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 119. 

**  Op.  cit.,  p.  98. 

““  Zarathustra,  II,  iii.  Cf.  other  passages  cited  later  in  the  discussion 
of  pity,  pp.  303-4. 

Apocalypse,  xxi,  4.  Cf.  Nietzsche’s  comment  on  Christianity,  Will 
to  Power,  § 1025. 


EVIL  AND  CRUELTY 


237 


thinks  differently.  He  finds  a vital  meaning  in  pain,  something 
without  which  life,  particularly  progressive  life,  could  hardly 
he.  He  notes  the  curious  fact,  which  may  be  taken  for  what  it 
is  worth,  that  primitive  man  looked  on  suffering  differently 
from  ourselves,  even  finding  a pleasure  at  times  in  witnessing 
it,  and  a still  greater  pleasure  in  causing  it.®^  He  notes  too 
that  on  the  sufferer  himself  pain  may  act  in  two  ways — or 
rather  in  three : if  he  is  not  strong  enough,  it  may  undo  him, 
but  if  he  is  sufficiently  strong,  it  may  either  serve  as  a warning 
to  take  in  sail,  or  act  as  a positive  stimulus  and  challenge, 
leading  him  to  put  forth  his  highest  power.  Some,  he  remarks, 
are  never  prouder  or  more  warlike  than  before  great  pain.®*  A 
well-made  individual  finds  illnesses  to  be  the  greatest  stimulants 
of  his  life.®*  Nietzsche  makes  a striking  portrayal  of  the  way 
in  which  sickness  may  strike  inward  and  lead  one  to  face  the 
last  realities  of  existence,  in  § 144  of  Dawn  of  Day.  “I  know 
not,”  he  says  elsewhere,  “whether  such  suffering  make  better, 
but  I know  that  it  makes  deeper.  ’ ’ ™ He  raises  the  question 
whether  even  for  the  development  of  our  virtue  sickness  and 
suffering  can  be  dispensed  with,  and  whether  especially  our 
thirst  for  knowledge  and  self-knowledge  does  not  require  the 
sick  soul  as  well  as  the  healthy  one — whether  the  will  for  health 
alone  is  not  a prejudice  and  a cowardice.’'^  One  may  even  come 
out  of  these  hells  with  a new  love  and  a new  sense  of  love — and 
understand  Dante ’s  meaning,  when  he  wrote  over  the  gates  of  his 
Inferno,  “Also  me  did  eternal  love  create.”^*  The  bitter  experi- 
ences may  not  be  good  for  all,  may  submerge  some,  but  for  the 
strong  they  bring  on  the  “great  health.”^®  In  this  connection 
Nietzsche  has  a good  word  for  Christianity,  saying  that  in 
contrast  with  all  utilitarianism,  aiming  ultimately  at  well- 
being, comfort,  pleasure,  it  teaches  that  life  is  a testing  and 
education  of  the  soul,  and  that  there  is  danger  in  all  well- 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  §6;  cf.  §7;  also  Werke,  XI,  197-8,  §106; 
Dawn  of  Day,  § 18. 

Joyful  Science,  § 318;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 778. 

Will  to  Power,  § 1003. 

Preface,  § 3,  to  Joyful  Science. 

Joyful  Science,  §1120;  cf.  Genealogy  etc..  Ill,  §9. 

Will  to  Power,  § 1030. 

” Ihid.,  § 1013. 


238 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


being/^  He  speaks  of  the  discipline  of  great  suffering,  and 
asks  whether  he  himself  is  not  more  indebted  to  the  most  dif- 
ficult years  of  his  life  than  to  any  others/®  He  had  early 
quoted  Meister  Eckhard’s  words,  “The  animal  that  carries  you 
quickest  to  perfection  is  suffering,  ’ ’ and  he  came  to  know  their 
truth  by  experience.'^  There  is  then  a place  for  suffering  in  the 
world.  It  belongs  almost  inevitably  to  processes  of  change  and 
new  creation.  Pain  like  pleasure  is  but  an  incident,  a sign — 
the  matter  of  moment  is  what  it  accompanies  or  signifies.  If 
we  are  to  make  ourselves  over,  we  must  pay  the  price  and  not 
be  too  pathetic  about  it.^^  The  highest  thing  is  to  have  courage 
to  suffer.®  But  may  we  choose,  inflict  suffering?  With  this, 
however,  we  pass  to  cruelty  itself. 

Whoever  is  willing  to  suffer  himself,  Nietzsche  observes, 
looks  differently  at  cruelty;  he  does  not  regard  it  as  in  itself 
harmful  and  bad  (schlecht).  Further,  “the  cruelty  of  an  un- 
feeling person  is  the  opposite  of  pity;  the  cruelty  of  one  who 
is  sensitive  is  a higher  potency  of  pity.  ’ ’ But  before  noting 
his  estimate  of  cruelty,  let  us  follow  what  he  has  further  to  say 
in  analysis  of  it.  He  speaks  of  man  as  the  cruellest  animal — 
the  cruellest  also  to  himself.’'®  If  the  question  is  raised  why 
there  is  pleasure  in  inflicting  pain,  he  can  only  answer  that 
there  goes  with  it  a sense  of  superiority  or  power.  The  pleasure 
is  greater  when  one  has  been  relatively  powerless  before,  when, 
for  example,  one  has  been  injured  and  now  takes  revenge.®*  It 
is  greater,  too,  the  lower  we  are  in  the  social  scale,  i.e.,  the  less 
we  are  accustomed  to  the  assertion  of  power.  For  example,  a 
low-born  creditor  in  ancient  times  had  a quite  extraordinary 
pleasure  in  inflicting  harm  on  an  insolvent  debtor — for  the  mo- 
ment he  participated  in  master-rights.®^  In  general,  as  already 
stated,  cruelty  is  greater  in  the  weak  than  in  the  strong.®®  But 

74  JYerJce,  XIII,  151,  §§  357-8.  He  has  English  Utilitarianism  par- 
ticularly in  mind. 

’’^Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 225;  Epilogue  to  “Nietzsche  contra 
Wagner.” 

’““Schopenhauer  as  Educator,”  sect.  4. 

’’’’  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 225;  cf.  Zarathustra,  II,  ii. 

’“Werfce,  XII,  205,  § 334;  296,  § 339. 

Zarathustra,  III,  xiii,  § 2. 

““  Werke,  XIII,  190,  § 420. 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 5. 

Cf.,  in  addition  to  the  earlier  references,  Werke,  XII,  88-9,  §173; 


EVIL  AND  CRUELTY 


239 


the  impulse  is  widespread,  and  lurks  in  guises  where  we  may 
not  suspect  it.  Civilization  refines,  spiritualizes  [shall  I say? 
moralizes]  it,  rather  than  eradicates  it.“  Christianity  has  been 
one  of  the  spiritualizing  influences.  The  idea  of  hell,  the  rack, 
courts  of  inquisition,  auto-da-fes,  are,  whatever  may  be  said 
against  them,  a great  advance  on  the  splendid,  but  half-idiotic 
slaughtering  that  went  on  in  the  Roman  arenas.^  It  is  a step 
onward  when  men  are  content  with  spiritual  instead  of  bodily 
sufferings,  and  with  picturing  them  and  no  longer  wishing  to 
see  them.®  One  of  the  guises  under  which  cruelty  lurks  is  the 
desire  for  distinction — the  unconscious  or  at  least  unconfessed 
motive  being,  Nietzsche  thinks,  to  make  others  feel  unpleasantly 
the  contrast  with  ourselves.  The  artist,  whose  pleasure  in 
forcing  the  envy  of  competitors  does  not  allow  his  forces  to 
sleep  till  he  becomes  great,  the  nun  who  looks  with  punishing 
eyes  on  women  who  live  differently,  the  humble,  very  humble 
man  who  is  not  unaware  of  the  reproaches  which  others  must 
give  themselves  for  not  being  like  him,  are  instances.  The 
original  motives  may  be  forgotten,  but  down  at  bottom  a 
subtle  cruelty  has  been  at  work.®  ^ 

We  may  even  be  cruel  to  ourselves,  in  a subtle  way.  To 
criticise  others  is  common — apparently  it  is  an  unfailing  spring 
of  pleasure  for  men  and  for  women ; but  the  philosopher — a rare 
species — criticises  himself,  and  in  a sense  has  pleasure  in  this 
also.  He  enjoys  correcting  his  surface  views,  breaking  up  old 
satisfactions.  It  may  sound  nice  to  speak  of  excessive  “hon- 
esty,” “love  of  truth,”  “sacrifice  for  knowledge,”  but  the  indi- 
vidual himself,  if  schooled  in  introspection  and  strictly  truthful, 
is  apt  to  say,  “There  is  something  cruel  in  the  propensity  of 
my  mind.”®  All  conquests  of  knowledge  come  from  courage 
and  from  hardness  to  oneself.®  Nietzsche  honors  the  English 
psychologists  who  know  how  to  hold  their  heart  as  well  as  their 

XIV,  82,  §163;  Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 7 (on  the  specific  character  of 
priestly  revenge ) . 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 6. 

Werke,  XIII,  310,  § 759. 

“ Ihid.,  XII,  89,  § 176. 

Bawn  of  Day,  §§  30,  113. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 230.  Cf.,  on  the  inability  to  see  sub- 
limated forms  of  a thing,  Werke,  XII,  87,  § 172. 

Will  to  Poicer,  § 104. 


240 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


pain  in  check,  and  have  trained  themselves  to  sacrifice  wishes 
to  truth,  even  to  ugly,  disagreeable,  unchristian,  unmoral 
truth.®®  He  finds  our  strong  sides  unmerciful  to  our  weak  sides 
generally — yes,  our  very  greatness  may  lie  in  our  unmerciful- 
ness.®® The  ground-law  of  life  is  self-overcoming — we  have  to 
put  away  what  is  weak  and  old  in  us  and  be  inexorable  in  doing 
so:  it  is  the  secret  both  of  bodily  and  of  spiritual  renewal.®^ 
William  James  spoke  of  “imperative  goods,”  whose  nature  it 
is  to  be  “cruel  to  their  rivals,”  and  Nietzsche  says,  “Whoever 
has  greatness  is  cruel  to  his  virtues  and  refiections  {Erwdg- 
%ngen)  of  lesser  rank.”®®  There  is  something  cruel  in  con- 
science itself.  When  man  comes  under  the  ban  of  society  and 
social  law,  he  sooner  or  later  turns  against  his  old  nature,  con- 
tradicts it,  despises  it,  mistreats  it,  and  makes  it  suffer — the 
process  being  intensified  under  the  infiuenee  of  ethical,  ascetic 
religions  like  Brahmanism  and  Christianity.  Denying  self, 
sacrificing  self,  pleasure  in  doing  this — all  is  a refined,  elevated 
cruelty ; ®®  and  the  motive  is  the  same  as  that  behind  cruelty  in 
its  crudest  forms — love  of  superiority  and  power.  That  we  can 
put  ourselves  under  our  feet  gives  us  a sense  of  wings:  in  the 
famous  story  of  King  Vi^vamitra  which  the  Brahmans  tell,  the 
long-continued,  self-infiicted  sufferings  of  the  king  give  him 
such  a feeling  of  power,  such  confidence  in  himself,  that  he  is 
ready  to  build  a new  heavens.®^ 

Cruelty  being  of  this  nature,  capable  of  these  metamorphoses, 
Nietzsche  thinks  there  is  a place  for  it  in  the  world,  as  for  the 
Bose  in  general.  In  a realm  of  change  such  as  our  world  is, 
more  or  less  of  it  has  to  be — without  it  change  would  be  im- 
possible. As  pleasure  is  a sign  of  adjustment,  so  pain  is  neces- 
sary for  a readjustment — if  we  are  “humanitarian”  purely, 
we  faint  before  the  stern  requirements  of  the  task;  creative 
force  and  “humanity”  are  so  far  opposites.®®  If  it  is  heroic 
to  endeavor  to  diminish  pain,  it  may  on  occasion  also  be  heroic — 
and  it  is  a harder  lieroism — to  infiict  it:  in  the  one  case  we 

Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 1. 

'"‘Joyful  Science,  §28. 

Zarathustra,  passim;  Joyful  Science,  § 26. 

Joyful  Science,  § 266. 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 18. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 113;  Genealogy  etc..  Ill,  § 10. 

” Cf.  Werke,  XIV,  70,  § 136. 


EVIL  AND  CRUELTY 


241 


follow  feelings  that  are  instinctive  to  most  of  us,  in  the  other 
we  have  to  transcend  them.  “Who  will  attain  anything  great, 
if  he  does  not  feel  within  himself  the  power  and  the  will  to  inflict 
great  pain  ? Ability  to  suffer  is  the  smallest  thing : in  this  weak 
women  and  even  slaves  often  come  to  mastery.  But  not  to 
perish  of  inner  distress  and  uncertainty,  when  we  inflict  great 
suffering  and  hear  the  cry  of  this  suffering — that  is  great,  that 
belongs  to  greatness.”®®  As  illness,  whether  of  body  or  soul 
and  particularly  of  the  soul,  is  instructive,  sometimes  more  so 
than  health,  so  those  who  make  ill  may  be  as  necessary  as 
medicine-men  and  saviours.®^  Nietzsche  says  boldly,  ‘ ‘ To  lessen 
suffering  and  to  escape  from  suffering  (i.e.,  from  life) — is  that 
moral?  To  create  suffering — for  oneself  and  others — in  order 
to  enable  them  to  reach  the  highest  life,  that  of  the  conqueror — 
were  my  aim.”®®®  For  to  his  mind,  it  is  not  suffering  that  is 
evil,  but  senseless  suffering,  and  he  throws  out  the  extraordinary 
idea  that  we  must  take  upon  ourselves  all  the  suffering  that 
has  been  borne,  whether  by  men  or  by  animals,  and  affirm  it  and 
Jiave  an  aim  in  which  it  acquires  reason.  He  calls  it  his  prin- 
cipal doctrine,  that  “in  our  power  lies  the  reinterpretation  of 
suffering  into  blessing,  of  poison  into  nourishment.  ’ ’ ®® 

Nietzsche  is  quite  aware  of  the  unsettling  effect  of  considera- 
tions like  these.  Once  he  says  that  if  we  are  led  to  feel  that 
“evil”  forces  are  fundamentally  necessary  in  the  total  economy 
of  life  and  hence  must  be  heightened,  not  lessened,  if  life  is  to 
advance,  we  suffer  as  from  seasickness.^®®  The  trouble  is,  I need 
not  say,  that  we  have  not  been  accustomed  to  seeing  good  and 
evil  in  perspective,  that  we  look  on  them  and  the  contrast  be- 
tween them  as  absolute.  Strong  feeling  always  tends  to  abso- 
lutize its  judgments — and  perhaps  there  has  been  no  stronger 
feeling  in  the  world  in  the  past  than  group-feeling,  of  which 
we  thus  experience  the  effects.  But  there  is  no  real  contradic- 
tion between  saying  that  certain  things  are  prejudicial  to,  or 
even  incompatible  with,  the  life  of  a group,  and  that  they  may 
be  useful  in  larger  relations.  There  is  no  question,  and  Nietz- 

Joyful  Science,  § 325. 

Genealogy  etc.,  Ill,  § 9. 

Werke,  XIV,  81,  § 162. 

TFerfce  (pocket  ed.),  VII,  494,  §§68-9. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 23. 


242 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


sche  makes  no  question,  that  societies  live  by  what  I have  ven- 
tured to  call  essential  morality,  that  in  all  ordinary  circum- 
stances their  members  are  strictly  hound  by  it.  But  if  the 
course  of  the  world  were  determined  by  this  morality,  that 
would  be  something  ordinary  indeed.  If  we  deny  the  hose 
forces — those  that  bring  harm  and  suffering — all  play,  we  in 
effect  accept  the  world  as  we  find  it,  wishing  only  to  preserve 
it  or  develope  it  along  existing  lines.  If  there  is  to  be  change, 
great  change,  these  forces  must  be  allowed  room. 

v 

Indeed,  Nietzsche  is  skeptical  of  absolute  antitheses  in  gen- 
eral— that  of  good  and  evil  is  only  a special  case.  He  calls  the 
belief  in  them  the  ground-belief  of  metaphysicians — meaning 
by  this  apparently  that  higher  things,  when  contrasted  abso- 
lutely with  lower  things,  become  incapable  of  derivation  from 
them,  and  hence  to  explain  them  as  they  appear,  we  must  posit 
another,  higher  order  of  things.^“^*‘  He  questions  absolute  an- 
titheses all  along  the  line.  Instinct  and  consciousness  are  not 
really  opposites;  consciousness  may  be  secretly  guided  by  in- 
stinct and  forced  by  it  into  certain  paths.^“  Health  and  sick- 
ness are  not  really,  or  at  least  necessarily,  opposed;  a measure 
of  health  is  the  efflorescence  of  the  body,  the  elasticity,  courage, 
and  joyfulness  of  the  mind,  i.e.,  the  extent  to  which  sickness 
may  be  endured,  overcome,  and  made  tributary  to  health : sick- 
ness may  be  a stimulus  to  the  ‘ ‘ great  health.  ’ ’ Even  truth, 
at  least  what  we  call  such,  is  so  little  opposed  to  error,  that  it 
has  grown  out  of  it,  our  “true  world”  being  the  result  of  a 
simplification,  i.e.,  of  leaving  some  things  out  of  account,  ignor- 
ing them,  willing  to  ignore  them,  our  science  being  not  so  much 
the  antithesis  of  ignorance,  as  a refinement  of  it,  the  will  to 
know  resting  on  a much  more  powerful  will  not  to  know.^''^ 
The  state  as  a reign  of  law  is  contrasted  with  force  and  violence, 
but  it  originated  in  force  and  violence — it  is  a finer  form  of 
them,  not  their  negation.^"®  The  early  morality  of  mores  had 

^0^  Ibid.,  §2. 

§3. 

WiU  to  Power,  § 1013. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §§  2,  24. 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 17;  cf.  Werke,  IX,  148-58. 


EVIL  AND  CRUELTY 


243 


mucli  that  was  hard,  tyrannous,  stupid  about  it;  all  the  same 
by  it  man  was  educated  and  turned  into  a reckonable,  responsi- 
ble creature.^"®  Some  of  our  highest  and  purest  moral  concep- 
tions, such  as  duty,  responsibility,  obligation,  have  (as  we  shall 
see  later)  the  trail  of  blood  on  them.  From  impulses  of  hatred 
and  revenge  in  ancient  Israel — hatred  of  what  was  great  and 
powerful — came  a new  love,  the  deepest  and  sublimest  kind  of 
love,  not  as  a contradiction  but  as  a climax,  for  by  the  doctrine 
of  love  the  old  powers  were  dethroned  and  the  revenge  accom- 
plished.^®^ High  things  grow  from  low  things  everywhere. 
Good  conscience  had  bad  conscience  for  a first  stage.^®*  Man 
descends,  or  ascends,  from  the  animal — he  is  a higher  animal. 
His  mental  and  moral  processes  are  not  antithetical  to  physi- 
ological or  vital  processes,  but  a transmutation,  sublimation  of 
them,  a carrying  them  to  finer  issues.  Mind  and  body  alike 
appropriate,  absorb,  and  reject  what  is  not  appropriable.  Man 
is  after  everything,  everybody  that  can  serve  for  his  nourish- 
ment, and  the  impulse  to  own  is  but  a form  of  this  craving; 
knowledge  is  in  turn  a form  of  ownership,  and  love  a feeling 
for  what  we  own,  or  wish  to  own.  Nietzsche  suggests  that  all 
moral  impulses  may  possibly  be  traced  back  to  the  wish  to  have 
and  to  hold;  in  any  case,  the  four  Socratic  virtues — justice, 
prudence,  self-control,  courage — have  beginnings  in  the  animal 
world,  are  the  result  of  the  impulses  for  food  and  for  escaping 
enemies,  and  it  may  not  be  unpermissible  to  designate  the  whole 
moral  phenomenon  as  animal.^®® 

So  good  and  evil  are  not  really  antithetical.  The  mind  has 
been  educated,  sharpened  in  the  past  by  distinguishing  between 
them,“®  and  the  distinction  has  its  validity,  but  it  is  not  an 
absolute  validity.  Good  and  evil  are  complementary  more  than 
opposite.^^^  Each  is  necessary,  useful,  good  (in  the  final  sense). 
Let  us  be  naturalistic,  says  Nietzsche,  and  concede  a good  right 
even  to  what  we  have  to  contend  with,  whether  within  or 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 2. 

Ihid.,  I,  § 8. 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 90. 

^°^Werke,  XII,  101-7,  §§  205-8,  215,  216;  Dawn  of  Day,  §26. 

Werke,  XIV,  97,  § 206. 

TFtZZ  to  Power,  §351;  cf.  § 1027.  Nietzsche  finds  also  ration- 
ality and  mysticism  complementary,  see  ihid.,  §1012;  Werke,  XI,  234, 
§ 189. 


244  NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 

without  us.^“  In  a similar  strain,  an  American  poet  describes 
the  Puritan: 

“ I have  no  love  of  ease ! 

My  feet  are  shod  with  might! 

If  there’s  no  Devil  in  God’s  world, 

Then  what  have  I to  fight? 

I am  a man  of  war ! 

Such  things  I understand  : 

When  Devils  against  Cheruhim 
Are  leagued  throughout  the  land.”  ”” 

Nietzsche  spoke  of  conjuring  up  enemies — we  need  them  for 
our  ideal’s  sake.  The  educator,  if  he  is  great,  is  like  nature — 
he  piles  up  obstacles  that  they  may  be  surmounted.^^^  More 
than  this,  the  evil  may  become  good.  Lay  a highest  aim  on 
your  passions,  Nietzsche  says,  and  they  become  your  virtues 
and  sources  of  delight;  even  if  you  have  the  blood  of  the 
choleric  or  of  the  voluptuous  or  of  the  fanatical  or  of  the  vin- 
dictive in  you,  the  result  will  be  the  same,  the  devils  will  become 
your  angels.^'®  Instincts  of  murder,  theft,  cruelty,  deception 
are  present  in  the  most  admired  actions  and  characters.^^®  ‘ 
Good  acts  are  sublimated  evil  ones,  the  stulf  being  the  same.“^ 
Though  we  must  protect  ourselves  against  wild  energies  and 
call  them  evil,  so  long  as  we  do  not  know  how  to  use  them, 
when  we  make  them  serviceable,  they  are  good.”®  What  we 
now  honor  as  philosophical  impulses — those  to  doubt,  inquire, 
analyze,  compare — went  for  a long  time  against  the  primary 
requirements  of  morality  and  conscience ; marriage  at  the  outset 
was  a sinning  against  the  rights  of  the  community;  gentle, 
sympathetic  feelings  once  excited  contempt,  it  being  as  much  a 
cause  of  shame  to  be  mild  then  as  it  is  now  to  be  hard.”®  And 
in  turn,  good  things  may  become  evil.  From  this  point  of 

“^Werfce,  XIII,  121,  § 270. 

Anna  Hempstead  Branch,  “The  Puritan,”  in  The  Shoes  that 
Danced  (Boston,  1906). 

IFerfce,  XIV,  274,  §§  66,  68. 

Zarathiistra,  I,  v. 

Werke,  XII,  87,  § 171. 

Human,  etc.,  § 107. 

Will  to  Power,  § 1025;  cf.  Zarathustra,  IV,  xiii,  §5;  Werke,  XIII, 
122,  § 274;  Beyond  Oood  and  Evil,  § 116. 

Genealogy  etc..  Ill,  §9. 


EVIL  AND  CRUELTY 


245 


view,  Nietzsche  once  speaks  of  evil  as  an  atavism  of  a former 
good;  acts,  once  done  innocently,  become  evil,  crimes,  to  the 
conscience  of  a later  time.^^^  Moreover,  what  is  good  for  one 
individual  is  evil  for  another.  Steady  industry  is  not  good  for 
the  perfect  artist,  habits  of  obedience  are  out  of  place  in  one 
who  commands,  resignation  does  not  befit  one  with  a great  aim, 
though  such  things  are  all  desirable  for  men  in  general  Even 
for  the  same  individual,  good  and  evil  may  change  at  different 
epochs  of  his  life — the  magnanimous  feelings  shared  by  Na- 
poleon in  his  youth  with  his  time  became  seductions  and  tempta- 
tions later  on,  since  they  weakened  the  exclusive  application 
of  his  force  in  one  direction  which  then  was  necessary Nietz- 
sche himself  wished  to  turn  some  things  now  commonly  counted 
good  into  evil.^^  He  even  speaks  once  or  twice,  though  rather 
obscurely,  of  what  is  useful  in  one  direction  being  neces- 
sarily evil  in  others,  so  that  a thing  may  be  good  and  evil 
at  the  same  time,  depending  on  the  standpoint  from  which  it 
is  regarded.^^  However  this  may  be,  good  and  evil  are  to  his 
mind  relative  judgments  only — evil  does  not  inhere  in  things 
themselves  or  in  men  themselves.  With  a certain  humanity 
Zarathustra  turns  on  judges  who  pass  sentence  on  the  “pale 
criminal,”  charging  them,  “Enemy”  shall  ye  say,  but  not  “vil- 
lain,” “sick  man”  shall  ye  say,  but  not  “wretch”  {Schuft), 
“fool”  shall  ye  say,  but  not  “sinner.”*^ 

”0  Werke,  XII,  91,  § 182. 

Ibid.,  XIV,  64,  § 125. 

Cf.  the  strong  language  of  Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 24. 

Werke,  XIII,  147,  §§  345,  348. 

Zarathustra,  I,  vi. 


CHAPTER  XIX 


CRITICISM  OF  MORALITY  (Cont.).  VARYING  TYPES  OF 

MORALITY 

I 

In  introducing  some  paragraphs  on  “the  natural  history  of 
morals”  in  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  Nietzsche  urges  the  necessity 
of  making  a collection  of  different  types  of  morality.  While 
admitting  that  moral  feeling  in  Europe  is  subtle,  many-sided, 
sensitive,  refined,  “the  science  of  morals”  seems  to  him  still 
young,  tyro-like,  clumsy  {plump) — even  the  word  “science” 
in  this  connection  being  presumptuous  and  against  good  taste, 
which  is  always  a taste  in  the  first  place  for  modest  expressions. 
A preliminary  need,  he  urges,  is  to  gather  material,  to  grasp 
conceptually  and  classify  an  immense  domain  of  delicate  valua- 
tions and  distinctions  of  value,  which  live,  grow,  propagate, 
and  die — and  to  try,  perhaps,  to  make  detailed  pictures  of  the 
recurring  and  more  frequent  forms  of  this  living  crystalliza- 
tion. But  instead  of  such  work,  for  which  no  hand  could  be 
too  fine,  philosophers,  whenever  they  have  addressed  themselves 
to  morals  as  a science,  have  demanded  of  themselves,  with 
pedantic  and  amusing  gravity,  something  far  higher,  more  pre- 
tentious, more  solemn,  a basis  of  morality — and  all  think  that 
they  have  provided  one;  but  morality  itself  passed  as  some- 
thing “given.”  The  fact  is,  however,  that  they  have  only 
known  the  moral  facta  roughly  (grohlich),  in  some  arbitrary 
abstract  or  some  accidental  abridgment,  perhaps  as  the  morality 
of  their  environment,  their  class,  their  church,  their  time,  their 
climate  and  zone — and  just  because  they  have  been  so  poorly 
instructed  and  were  so  little  curious  in  respect  to  peoples,  eras, 
and  past  ages,  they  have  not  come  face  to  face  with  the  real 
problems  of  morality,  which  first  arise  in  connection  with  a 
comparison  of  many  moralities.^ 

* Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 186. 

246 


VARYING  TYPES  OF  MORALITY 


247 


The  expression  “many  moralities”  doubtless  seems  strange 
to  many — and  we  have  found  Nietzsche  himself  giving  a some- 
what definite  characterization  of  morality  in  the  chapter  before 
the  last.  But  though  morality  is  always  the  law  of  a social 
group,  and  in  certain  essential  points  tends  to  be  the  same 
everywhere,  it  may  vary  to  the  extent  different  groups  are  dif- 
ferently situated  and  have  different  needs,  or  to  the  extent  they 
have  different  specific  aims.  All  must  value  and  have  tables 
of  good  and  evil,  but  these  neeff  not  be  exactly  alike.  Indeed, 
so  far  as  a~^oup  is  peculiar,  whether  in  its  circumstances  or 
its  ideals,  it  must  value  differently  from  other  groups,  otherwise 
the  development  of  its  own  individual  life  will  not  be  secured. 
Nietzsche  essays  a brief  characterization  of  the  moralities  of  the 
Greeks,  the  Persians,  the  Jews,  and  the  Germans — so  far  as 
each  has  its  peculmm — in  a discourse  of  Zarathustra.  “Ever 
shalt  thou  be  the  first  and  excel  others,  no  one  shall  thy  jealous 
soul  love  but  a friend” — such  was  the  distinctive  spirit  of 
Hellenic  morality;  with  this  the  Greek  went  on  his  path  of 
greatness.  “To  speak  truths  and^  use  the  bow  and  arrow 
well” — this  seemed  pre-eminently  good  to  the  Persians.  “To 
honor  father  and  mother  and  to  be  obedient  to  them 
down  to  the  depths  of  one’s  soul” — this  was  the  maxim, 
by~ obeying  which  Israel  became  strong  and  immortal.  “To 
practise  fidelity,  and  for  the  sake  of  fidelity  to  risk  honor  and 
blood  even  in  bosen  and  dangerous  courses” — so  saying,  the 
German  people  mastered  itself  and  became  pregnant  with  great 
hopes.^  Moralities  like  these  are,  of  course,  group-moralities 
proper.  But  there  may  also  be  minor  groups  within  the  group — 
social  classes  of  various  sorts;  and  these  too  may  have  their 
peculiar  situations,  needs,  and  aims.  We  speak  colloquially 
now  of  the  morality  of  the  various  professions,  of  the  morality 
of  business,  of  that  of  family  life  and  so  on.  It  is  observable 
that  individuals  even  acquire  different  characters  to  a certain 
extent,  depending  on  the  nature  and  aims  of  the  class  to  which 
they  belong.  We  can  imagine  that  if  some  of  these  minor 
groups  disappeared,  they  might  leave  their  impress  in  ways  of 
speaking  and  looking  at  things  that  should  survive  them — so 
that  if  men  in  future  times  were  keen  enough  of  scent,  they 
* Zarathustra,  I,  xv. 


248 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


might  construct  more  or  less  of  a picture  of  the  vanished  group 
from  data  before  them.  Royal  institutions  might  thus  be  recon- 
structed after  an  age  of  democracy  nad  set  in.  The  family 
institution  might  be  reconstructed  after  the  family  had  disap- 
peared (if  that  could  ever  be). 


II 

It  appears  to  have  been  in  some  such  way  as  this  that 
Nietzsche  was  led  to  the  supposition  of  an  original  master- 
morality  and  slave-morality.  Such  distinct  things  do  not 
exist  now,  but  he  fancied  that  they  had  existed.  He  was 
not  an  original  investigator  in  history  or  sociology,  but 
he  was  a wide  reader,  and  had  a keen  scent  for  the 
meaning,  and  shades  of  meaning,  of  words.  In  wandering 
through  the  many  moralities  both  finer  and  ruder,  which  have 
ruled  hitherto  on  the  earth  or  still  rule,  he  thought  he  detected 
certain  traits  regularly  recurring  together  and  connected  with 
one  another;  and  at  last  two  ground-types  disclosed  themselves 
and  a fundamental  distinction  appeared — there  was  a morality 
of  the  master  or  ruling  class  and  one  of  the  slave  or  subject 
class.  He  found  survivals  of  these  moralities  among  us  today — 
there  are  contrasted  ways  of  feeling  and  judging  and  even  of 
speaking,  that  appeared  to  him  to  receive  their  natural  explana- 
tion in  this  way.  Sometimes  the  contrasted  standpoints  are 
harmonized  (at  least  attempts  are  made  to  harmonize  them), 
sometimes  they  simply  co-exist;  they  may  co-exist  in  the  same 
individual,  who  now  judges  in  one  way  and  now  in  another — it 
is  a part  of  the  criss-cross,  the  anarchy,  of  the  present  moral 
situation,’^  as  he  saw  it,  to  which  allusion  has  been  made.  He 
found  also  another  type  of  morality — that  of  the  priestly  class. 
The  good  and  evil  of  the  priestly  class  were  at  bottom  identical 
with  the  pure  and  impure — the  terms  having  been  understood 
at  the  start  not  so  much  in  a symbolical,  as  in  a simple  physical 
sense.  A man  was  “pure”  who  bathed  himself,  who  forbade 
himself  foods  that  caused  diseases  of  the  skin,  who  did  not 
cohabit  with  unclean  women  of  the  lower  class,  who  had  a 
horror  of  blood — not  more  than  this,  at  least  not  much  more. 
In  the  eourse  of  time,  “pure”  came  to  have  the  moral  and 
spiritual  meanings  with  which  we  are  all  familiar — yet  even 


VARYING  TYPES  OF  MORALITY 


249 


SO  there  is  always  the  lurking  suggestion  of  a contrast  to  the 
ordinary  tainted  world.^**  But  the  moral  types  which, Nietzsche 
considers  at  length  are  those  of  the  ruler  and  subject  classes.® 
As  hie  read  history,  this  social  cleavage  is  the  most  striking  one — 
the  one  that  has  left  the  deepest  marks.  The  cleavage  does  not 
exist  in  democratic  communities,  and  if  the  world  had  started 
and  developed  democratically,  “master-morality”  and  “slave- 
morality”  would  have  no  meaning. 

It  should  be  said  at  the  outset  that  “master”  and  “slave” 
are  not  used  by  Nietzsche  merely  in  the  economic  sense  to  which 
we  in  America  are  most  accustomed,  but,  as  has  been  hinted 
in  an  earlier  connection,^  broadly.  The  economic  slave  who  is 
captured  in  war  or  purchased  and  put  to  drudgery  in  the 
fields  or  in  the  household  is  one  kind  of  slave,  but  that  which 
makes  him  a slave  is  subjection  to  the  will  of  another — and 
virtually  every  one  who  takes  his  orders  from  another,  and 
has  to,  gets  this  designation  at  Nietzsche’s  hands.^  The  master 
{Herr),  on  the  other  hand,  is  one  who  gives  orders.  And  inas- 
much as  early  political  societies  were  commonly  made  up  of 
leaders  and  the  led,  rulers  and  the  ruled,  the  function  of  the 
latter  being  as  much  to  follow  and  obey  as  that  of  the  former 
was  to  lead  and  command,  the  language  “master  and  slave,” 
in  application  to  them,  is  strictly  appropriate.  Particularh'- 
does  it  apply  when  one  society  conquers  another,  which  seem& 
to  have  been  the  way  in  which  large  political  aggregates  were- 
formed  in  early  times.  Nietzsche  once  goes  so  far  as  to  say 
that  elasses  {Stdnde)  always  originate  in  differences  of  descent 
and  race.®  But  this  appears  to  be  a needlessly  strong  statement. 
“Slave  morality”  and  “the  morality  of  the  mass”  are  prac- 
tically synonymous  to  him,  and  the  “mass”  in  contrast  with 
the  rulers  or  leaders  belonged  to  every  social  group — the  two 
are  constantly  contrasted  and  their  virtues  and  duties  contra- 
distinguished by  him.®  Sometimes  he  even  uses  “group-moral- 
ity” {Heerden-Moral)  as  identical  with  “slave-morality,” 
meaning  of  course  that  the  “slaves”  are  the  greater  part  of 
the  group,  just  as  we  often  speak  of  the  “people,”  when  we 

' Genealogy  etc.,  I,  §§  6-8. 

* P.  72;  cf.,  later,  pp.  442-3. 

“ Genealogy  etc.,  Ill,  § 17.  Cf.  N.  Awxentieff’s  comment,  Kultur- 
eihisches  Ideal  Nietzsches,  p.  85. 


250 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


mean  the  common  people,  or  of  a flock  of  sheep  and  its  bell- 
wether, or  of  a herd  of  cattle  and  its  “Yor-ochsen.”^  In  times 
past  there  have  been  the  few  rulers  and  the  many  ruled — this 
is  the  simple  broad  fact  on  which  Nietzsche’s  view  of  a master- 
morality  and  a slave-morality  is  based.  For  us  today  “slave” 
is  a derogatory  expression,  and  always,  it  is  true,  a slave  has 
ranked  lower  than  a free  man ; but  Nietzsche  knows  also  how 
to  appreciate  the  slave — and  even  says  that  many  a man  has 
thrown  away  his  last  worth  when  he  threw  away  his  servitude.^ 
How  necessary  and  vital  in  his  estimation  the  slave  class  has 
been  in  the  past,  how  necessary  and  vital  their  counterparts 
are  today  and  always  will  be,  we  shall  see  later.®  I pass  now  to 
a more  detailed  characterization  of  the  two  moral  types.® 

First,  the  ruler  morality.  It  is  evident  that  the  ruler  class 
of  men  are  a marked  type.  They  have  unusual  vigor,  enter- 
prise, courage,  vitality  generally;  they  are,  relatively  speaking, 
higher,  more  complete  men.  Their  ascendency  can  hardly  be 
accounted  for  otherwise — they  take  the  first  place,  because  they 
are  the  first.  They  delight  in  war,  adventure,  the  hunt,  the 
dance,  contents  of  skill — it  is  from  the  overflow  of  the  energy 
within  them.^®  Theirs  is  not  ordinary  labor  in  the  fields  or  the 
household — others  have  this  for  their  portion ; and  whether  they 
subjugate  roving  disorganized  masses  or  rule  their  own  group, 
winning  a more  or  less  willing  allegiance  there,  the  basis  of 
their  superiority  is  the  same.  When  then  such  men  value,  they 
are  likely  to  do  so  more  or  less  differently  from  those  beneath 
them.  Comfort  and  personal  security  are  not  a first  considera- 
tion— nor  are  they  looking  to  others  to  be  kind  and  good  to  them. 
They  use  “good”  in  a peculiar  sense:  it  is  not  a “good  to,”  they 
feel  themselves  good;  they  approve  not  so  much  beneficence  or 
benevolence,  as  their  own  overflowing  power  and  exuberant 
manner  of  life.  The  mass,  however,  look  at  things  from  another 
standpoint.  They  are  the  weaker,  the  less  self-sufficient,  and 
Fave  need  of  kindness  at  others’  hands.  They  do  the  heavy 

«Cf.  Werke,  XIV,  67,  §133;  Will  to  Power,  §§  274,  400. 

’ Zarathustra,  I,  xvii. 

“ Pp.  435  ff. 

® The  principal  passages  are  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 260,  and  the 
first  treatise  of  Genealogy  of  Morals.  We  have  already  (p.  124)  noticed 
tlie  anticipatory  view  of  Human,  All-too-Human,  § 45. 

See  the  descriptions  in  Genealogy  etc.,  1,  § 7. 


VARYING  TYPES  OF  MORALITY 


251 


labor,  and  mutual  help  means  much  to  them.  All  live  more  or 
less  in  fear  in  primitive  ~times,  but  the  humbler  and  weaker 
espeeiaily,  and  to  be  delivered  from  it,  to  have  others  good  to 
them  instead  of  evil,  is  a supreme  desire;  the  principal  func- 
tion of  rulers  in  their  eyes  is  to  protect  them  from  evil  from 
outside. 

It  is  contrasted  perspectives  like  these  which  give  birth,  in 
Nietzsche’s  judgment,  to  the  contrasted  valuations,  “gut”  and 
“ schlecht”  on  the  one  side,  “gut”  and  “base”  on  the  other. 
The  ruling  class  fegl  themselves  good,  and,  sensible  of  the  con- 
trast between  themselves  and  those  beneath  them,  they  call  the 
latter  not  good,  schlecht.  Nietzsche  remarks  on  the  fact  that  the 
German  word  schlecht  originally  meant  little  more  than 
plain,  ordinary ; " it  had  a shade  of  contempt — Wundt  gives 
“simple,”  “plain,”  “poor,”  “mean”  as  its  equivalents.^^  It 
came  to  have  its  present  moral  signification  roughly  speaking 
with  the  Thirty  Years’  War  (so  Nietzsche  says),  and  still  has 
a fiavor  of  contempt.  I know  of  no  precise  English  equivalent 
for  it,  but  perhaps  the  nearest  is  “bad.”  So  the  English  trans- 
lation of  Nietzsche’s  Werke  renders  it,  and  when  we  speak  of 
work  as  “badly  done,”  of  a book  as  “badly  written,”  and  mean 
“in  poor,  inferior  fashion,”  we  approach  the  particular  shade 
of  significance  it  has.  But  the  valuations  “gut”  and  “hose” 
are  different.  These  reflect  the  sentiments  and  situation  of  the 
subject  or  slave  class.  Here  “good”  is  equivalent  to  fear- 
allaying,  kindly,  benevolent,  sympathetic — “hose”  signifying 
the  opposite.  Indeed  Nietzsche  appears  to  think  that  hose  is  the 
more  original  conception  of  the  two,  the  positive  conception — 
“good”  being  an  after-formation  and  counterpart  to  it,*^ 

The  master  and  subject  valuations  are  thus  quite  different. 
Each-class  has  its  good  and  evil  (in  the  broad  sense)  correspond- 
ing to  the  conditions^  of  its  life,  blit  the  good  oF^he  one,  is  not 
the  good  of  the  other,  anTlKe^^  of  Isfnot  the  evil  of 

Ihe  other.'  The  rulers  can  only  maintain  their  particular  type 
of  existence  by  estimating  things  as  they  do — to  use  Nietzsche’s 
metaphor,  they  protect  themselves  with  their  “good”  and 

” Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 4;  Werke,  XI,  256,  § 236. 

Ethics,  I,  41  {Eng,  tr. );  cf.  H.  Paul’s  Deutsches  Worterhuch, 
under  “ schlecht.” 

” Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 10. 


252 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


^‘scJilecht”  as  with  sacred  groves;^*  and  the  mass  equally  pro- 
tect themselves  by  judging  as  they  do.  The  two  classes  have, 
indeed,  a different  temper  throughout.  The  valuations  of  the 
higher  class  are  direct,  active ; those  of  the  mass  are  rather  from 
ressentiment  or  reactive.  Also  the  happiness  of  the  superior 
class  is  direct — it  comes  from  a sense  of  the  fullness  of  their 
power,  joy  in  activity  is  a part  of  it;  but  for  the  lower  class 
happiness  is  in  rest  from  activity,  something  found  in  times  of 
relaxation  or  when  under  some  narcotic  influence.  Again,  the 
superior  let  themselves  go  more,  the  lower  are  more  calculating 
(kliiger).  The  higher  vent  their  anger  straightway — it  does  not 
poison  them  and  they  easily  forget  (Mirabeau  is  a modern  in- 
stance) ; they,  if  anybody,  can  love  their  enemies — they  indeed 
want  an  enemy,  one  in  whom'  there  is  nothing  to  despise  and 
much  to  honor,  and  honoring  is  a way  to  loving;  but  the  lower 
cherish  their  resentment,  keeping  it  in  secret  places  within 
them,  and  fear  their  enemy  rather  than  honor  him.^®* 

It  goes  without  saying  that  the  contrast  between  the  two 
classes  and  their  moralities  is  within  limits.  The  group  as  a 
whole  must  live,  and  what  is  helpful  and  harmful  to  it  as  a 
collectivity  must  have  the  first  place.  The  sense  of  separateness 
of  the  higher  class,  their  contempt  for  the  lower,  cannot  go  too 
far;  and  the  mass,  if  they  require  protection  and  consideration 
and  kindness  too  absolutely,  will  not  give  the  services  and  make 
the  sacrifices  needed  in  time  of  war.  In  general,  however,  the 
group  interests  may  be  furthered  rather  than  hindered  by  thj 
differentiation  into  classes,  with  their  respective  points  of  view. 
It  is  a rudimentary  kind  of  organization,  and  an  organized 
mass  is  always  stronger  than  a structureless  one.  Moreover, 
Nietzsche  need  not  be  supposed  to  mean  that  the  classes  and 
their  moralities  are  marked  off  absolutely  against  each  other ; it 
is  enough  if,  as  the  classes  arise,  they  tend  to  take  contrasted 
points  of  view — the  moralities  are  types,  schemata,  not  neces- 
sarily fully  accomplished  realities.  And  yet  the  contrasts  are  so 
great  that  not  only  is  the  good  of  the  master-class  not  the  good 
of  the  subject-class,  but  it  may  be  the  evil  of  the  latter — the 
overflowing  power  of  the  ruler  being  just  that  which  makes  the 
subject  afraid  of  him.  A conqueror,  for  example,  is  always 
Zarathustra,  III,  x,  § 2.  “ Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 10. 


VARYING  TYPES  OF  MORALITY 


253 


hose  in  the  eyes  of  those  whom  he  conquers,  though  it  is  just  in 
conquering  that  he  feels  himself  good,^®  and  whether  the  ruling 
class  are  conquerors  from  outside  or  native  to  the  group  they 
rule,  the  ruled  stand  more  or  less  in  dread  of  them.  This  is 
especially  the  case,  in  Nietzsche’s  opinion,  after  a_  group  has 
b^n  delivered  from  its  enemies  and  lives  in  entire  security ; for 
the  abounding  energy,  the  overflowing  vitality,  the  love  of  en- 
terprise and  conquest  and  domination,  which  are  the  character- 
istic marks  of  the  superior  class  and  which  had  been  utilized  in 
the  publicjnterest  in  time  of  danger  and  war,  are  now  without 
‘an’ outlet  and  all  too  easily  discharge  themselves  harmfully 
within  the  group  itself.^^  Indeed,  members  of  the  ruler  class 
may  seem  hose  when  they  are  not ; in  mere  exuberance  of  spirits 
and  because  their  heaped-up  energy  must  have  vent,  they  may 
do  harm  and  inflict  suffering,  without  evil  intent  on  their  part.^® 
And,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  a tendency,  Nietzsche  thinks, 
for  the  “good”  of  the  subject-class  to  become  the  “schlecM” 
of  the  ruling  class,  i.e.,  to  be  looked  down  upon  with  something 
like  contempt.  His  language  is,  “The  contrast  reaches  its 
climax,  when,  in  harmony  with  the  logic  of  slave-morality, 
something  like  depreciation  {ein  Hauch  von  Geringschdtzimg)  — 
it  may  be  slight  and  kindly — at  last  attaches  itself  even  to  the 
good  man  of  this  morality,  since  the  good  man,  within  the  slave 
mode  of  thought,  must  at  all  events  be  the  undangerous  man: 
he  is  good-natured,  easily  deceived,  perhaps  a bit  stupid,  tin 
honhomme.  Everywhere,  where  slave-morality  gets  the  upper 
hand,  language  shows  an  inclination  to  bring  the  words  ‘good’ 
and  ‘stupid’  near  together.”^® 

One  way  of  characterizing  the  two  moralities  would  be  to 
say  that  one  is  a morality  of  self-approval,  the  other  a utilitarian 
morality.  Considerations  of  usefulness — usefulness  to  them — 
determine  the  judgments  of  the  mass  as  to  good  and  evil,  for 
they  are  weak  and  need  to  have  things  arranged  for  their 
benefit.  But  the  powerful  class,  who  put  their  impress  on 
things,  who  are  happy  in  themselves — what  is  utility  to  them? 

’“Cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 189;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 260;  Genealogy 
etc.,  I,  § 11. 

” Cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 201;  The  'Wanderer  etc.,  § 31. 

Cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 371. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 260. 


254 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


Nietzsche  virtually  distinguishes  the  moralities  in  this  manner 
himself ; and  yet  in  a broader  sense  all  morality,  whether  of 
the  group  or  of  any  class  within  it,  is  utilitarian  according  to 
his  way  of  thinking — that  is,  it  is  good  and  binding  not  on  its 
own  account,  but  in  that  it  furthers  a given  type  of  life  and 
corresponds  to  the  conditions  of  its  preservation  and  develop- 
ment.^* 

Ill 

Such  are  the  broad  outlines  of  his  view.  I give  now  the 
particular  philological  suggestions  that  seem  to  have  inspired 
it,  or  at  least,  as  he  thought,  to  confirm  it.  He  is  not  dogmatic 
in  using  them,  and  some  of  his  conjectures  he  came  to  see  were 
mistaken.^^  It  was  a method  of  approaching  the  subject  that 
interested  him,  more  than  any  particular  results.  In  a note 
appended  to  the  first  treatise  of  Genealogy  of  Morals,  he  ex- 
pressed the  wish  that  some  philosophical  faculty  would  institute 
a series  of  prize  papers  on  the  history  of  morality  and  particu- 
larly in  answer  to  the  question,  “What  hints  does  the  science  of 
language,  and  especially  etymological  investigation,  furnish  for 
the  history  of  the  development  of  moral  conceptions”?*  It  is 
of  interest  to  note  that  after  almost  a quarter  of  a century  one 
German  university  has  fulfilled  this  wish.^^  I shall  mention  only 
the  more  important  of  Nietzsche’s  philological  suggestions;  they 
are  mainly  as  to  words  expressive  of  the  master-class  valuations, 
which  he  thinks  were  the  older  of  the  two. 

The  Greek  word  for  good,  is,  he  is  aware,  of  uncer- 

tain derivation,  but  the  words  for  “superior,”  “noble”  were, 
he  thinks,  unquestionably  class-designations  (i.e.,  ruler-class, 
aristocratic)  at  the  start,  and  he  suspects  that  ay  ado?,  was  too.^^ 
He  instances  phrases  like  “we  superior,  we  good,  we  beautiful. 

Ibid.,  § 260;  Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 2.  * 

See  the  further  statement  as  to  terminology  in  note  u to  chap. 

xxix. 

For  example,  his  view  as  to  the  connection  of  “ gut  ” (and  “ Goth  ”) 
with  “ gdttlich,”  expressed  in  Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 5.  He  abandoned  it 
after  Brandes  had  communicated  strictures  upon  it  (see  Brief e.  III,  311-2; 
cf.  279). 

So  R.  M.  Meyer,  Nietzsche  (1913),  p.  526  (without  mentioning  the 
university  hy  name). 

Genealogy  etc  , I,  §§  4,  5;  cf.  Werke,  XI,  256,  § 236  (as  to  hoflich, 
gentile,  edel,  vornehm,  noble,  genereux,  courtoisie,  gentleman). 


VARYING  TYPES  OF  MORALITY 


255 


we  happy  ones,”  with  which  old-time  Greek  aristocrats  some- 
times described  themselves^ — having  in  mind,  perhaps,  lan- 
guage used  by  Theognis,  who  speaks  of  the  “nobles”  constantly 
as  “the  good,”  and  of  the  common  mass  as  the  “bad”  or 
“base.”  One  thinks  too  of  HaXoxdyado?,  with  which  the  aris- 
tocratic ideal  was  summed  up,  though  Nietzsche  does  not  refer 
to  it.  Leopold  Schmidt,  it  may  be  added,  thinks  that  dyado? 
referred  to  personal  bravery  and  other  characteristics,  such  as 
may  be  supposed  to  have  belonged  pre-eminently  to  early  aris- 
tocracies : and  of  one  thing  we  may,  I suppose,  be  sure,  namely, 

that  it  did  not  stand  for  the  qualities,  kindly,  benevolent,  sym- 
pathetic, with  which  we  pre-eminently  identify  “good”  today. 
Turning  to  the  Latin  word,  bonus,  Nietzsche  conjectures  that  it 
goes  back  to  an  older  duonus  (like  'bellum  from  duelhim) , sig- 
nifying a man  in  dissension,  a warrior:  accordingly  “we  see 
what  in  old  Rome  a man’s  ‘goodness’  amounted  to.”^  The 
old-time  superior  classes  also  designated  themselves  by  other 
terms — perhaps  oftenest,  after  their  superiority  in  power,  as 
“the  mighty,”  “the  lords,”  “the  commanders,”  or,  after  the 
most  visible  sign  of  their  superiority,  as  “the  rich,”  “the  pos- 
sessors” (this  the  meaning  of  arya,  with  equivalents  in  Eranian 
and  Slavic),  or,  after  a typical  trait  of  character,  as  “the  truth- 
ful.” The  last  term  was  particularly  in  use  among  the  Greek 
nobility : in  contrast  with  the  weaker  mass  given  to  lying  and 
dissimulation,  they  called  themselves  sffdXoi — at  least  Theognis 
liked  to  describe  them  in  this  way ; ^ and  it  is  interesting  to 
note  that  in  Hindu  “good”  is  equivalent  to  “true,”  “bad”  to 
“untrue.”  “ 

Taking  up  now  the  words  contrasted  with  ay  ado?  and  bonus, 
Nietzsche  points  out  that  in  both  uano?  and  dfzAo'?  fear  or 
cowardice  is  emphasized.^®  Dewey  and  Tufts  note  that  “base” 

^’‘Genealogy  etc.,  I,  §10;  cf.  §7  as  to  “good,”  “superior,”  “power- 
ful,” “ beautiful,”  “ happy,”  “ loved  of  the  Gods.” 

Ethik  der  alien  Griechen,  I,  289. 

” Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 5.  The  prevailing  etymologies  of  bonus  are 
quite  different  (see  VVundt,  op.  cit.,  I,  27). 

Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 5.  Cf.,  however,  Nietzsche’s  reflections  on  the 
Greek  aristocrats  in  Dawn  of  Day,  § 199. 

So  Wundt,  op.  cit.,  I,  27,  citing  Abel  Bergaigne,  Religion  vedique 
d’apres  les  hymnes  du  Rig-Veda,  I,  179. 

Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 5.  Cf.,  as  to  other  terms  for  the  common, 
heavy-laden,  unhappy  man,  § 10. 


256 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


and  “mean”  were  originally  simply  antitheses  to  “gentle”  and 
“noble,”  “villain”  meaning  a feudal  tenant,  “knave”  a 
servant,  “rascal”  one  of  the  common  herd;  they  even  say  that 
“bad”  probably  meant  originally  weak  or  womanish — in  other 
words,  all  were  practically  class  terms,  applied  de  haut  en  has. 
Nietzsche  makes  his  most  problematical  conjecture  as  to  the 
Latin  malus — suggesting  that  the  common  man  as  the  dark- 
colored  (particularly  dark-haired)  is  thus  indicated.  He  con- 
nects it  with  the  Greek  jaeXo?  (black) — as  does  also,  I may  add, 
Wundt  (citing  Curtius),  though  Wundt  has  rather  in  mind  dirt 
or  uneleanness,  as  viewed  by  the  priestly  class.^^  The  hypothesis 
is  that  “dark -haired”  points  to  the  pre-Aryan  inhabitants  of 
Italy,  whom  the  Latin  peoples  conquered,  they  being  dark  as 
the  Latin  Aryans  were  blond.  Nietzsche  finds  an  analogy  in 
the  Gaelic,  where  (e.g.,  in  Fin-Gal) — the  distinctive  term 

for  the  nobility,  and  coming  at  last  to  mean  the  good,  noble, 
pure — designated  originally  the  blond  head,  in  contrast  to  the 
dark,  black-haired  aborigines.  The  Celts  also,  in  common  with 
the  other  Aryan  invaders  of  Europe,  were  blond — although  it 
appears  to  Nietzsche  that,  as  time  has  gone  on,  the  aborigines 
have  everywhere  more  or  less  got  the  upper  hand  of  their  con- 
querors, in  both  bodily  and  moral  characteristics.^^  As  to  the 
German  “ scMecM,”  practically  all  the  authorities  agree  with 
Nietzsche’s  view  already  given.^  His  general  idea  is  that  the 
ruler  classes  virtually  stamped  their  view  on  current  speech  — 
that  is,  did  so  at  the  start,  for  other  valuations,  coming  from 
other  classes,  are  the  prevailing  ones  now.^® 

As  stated,  “good”  and  “bad”  designated  classes  at  first,  but 
in  time  their  meaning  came  to  be  generalized,  so  that  they  stood 
simply  for  the  qualities  of  the  contrasted  classes,  irrespective 
of  who  possessed  them.^  These  more  general  meanings  were, 
roughly  speaking,  fixed  for  the  Greek  world  in  the  time  of 

Op.  cit.,  p.  176.  They  remark  also  that  “ cattivo,”  the  Italian 
word  for  “had,”  meant  originally  “captive”  (cf.  the  English  “caitiff”). 

“Wundt,  op.  cit.,  I,  44;  Curtius,  Oriechische  Etymologic  (5th  ed.), 
p.  .370. 

“ OeneaJogy  etc.,  I,  § 5. 

“ Cf.,  e.g.,  Wundt,  op.  cit.,  I,  41. 

“Dewey  and  Tufts  admit  that  “the  upper  class  has  been  most 
effectual  in  shaping  language  and  standards  of  approval”  (op.  cit.,  p. 
175). 

“Nietzsche  argues  this  at  length  in  Genealogy  etc.,  I,  §§  1-3. 


VARYING  TYPES  OF  MORALITY 


257 


Socrates  when  the  cleavage  between  the  classes  had  more  or  less 
disappeared  — Socrates  himself  doing  much  to  fix  and  popu- 
larize them.  They  were,  so  to  speak,  the  spiritual  legacy  of  the 
old-time  ruling  class.  So  much  then  for  “good  and  bad 
(schlecht)  ” the  dominant  valuations,  as  Nietzsche  thinks,  in  the 
Greco-Roman  world. 

IV 

And  now  as  to  the  other  type  of  morality,  whose  antithesis 
is  “good  and  evil  (base).”  Save  to  the  extent  to  which  it  shades 
off  into  group-morality  in  general,  it  may  be  doubted  whether 
it  domesticated  itself  in  the  ancient  world.  It  is  the  morality 
of  the  mass,  and  the  mass  had  not  sufficient  power  to  impress 
their  views  upon  language — perhaps  were  not  “class-eonscious” 
enough  (to  use  a modern  phrase),  or  with  enough  general  intel- 
lectual development  to  perceive  that  they  had  a good  and  evil 
of  their  own ; at  best  there  was  a tendency,  an  instinct,  a craving 
in  that  direction.^  This  in  general ; but  there  was  an  exception. 
In  the  ease  of  one  remarkable  people  of  antiquity  the  mass  or 
slave  morality  did  articulate  itself — and  that  owing  to  a pe- 
culiar combination  of  circumstances : I refer  to  the  Jews.  The 
early  morality  of  Israel  was  much  like  that  of  other  primitive 
vigorous  peoples;  but  after  the  rise  of  the  prophets,™  and  par- 
ticularly after  the  national  downfall,  there  was  a change.  It 
was  one  of  the  main  characteristics  of  the  prophets  that  they 
took  the  side  of  the  people,  the  common  man,  against  the  ex- 
cesses of  those  who  ruled.  Under  their  influence  the  instinctive 
valuations  of  the  weaker  and  poorer  class  attained  an  extraor- 
dinary development,  and  at  last  came  tp  constitute  the  dominant 
morality  of  the  community.  Particularly  when  the  community 
Hme~under“f5reign  dominion,  when  Israel  became  an  op- 
pressed and  suffering  people,  did  the  point  of  view  of  the 
weaker  class  become  that  of  the  nation  as  a whole.  The  poor,' 
the  weak,  the  suffering,  became  almost  ipso  facto  the  righteous 
and  the  good ; “ kindness,  mutual  help,  mercy,  and  pity  were 
made  an  absolute  ideal — the  law  of  Jahweh  himself.  We  have 
heard  much  in  recent  years  of  the  transformation  of  the  ancient 
religion  of  Israel  into  an  ethical  religion — this  is  its  meaning. 
Jahweh  is  no  longer  simply  an  impersonation  of  the  nation’s 


258 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


power  and  might  and  glory,  he  is  the  God  of  the  humble,  the 
protector  and  avenger  of  the  poor  and  weak — he  casts  down  the 
mighty  and  the  proud.  The  ideals  of  the  mass  and  the  priestly 
ideal  of  purity  were  fused  into  a combination — Jahweh,  or,  more 
strictly  speaking,  Jahweh ’s  law — the  like  of  which  the  world 
has  never  seen.  Who  is  not  aware  of  the  difference  between  the 
literature  of  Greece  (particularly  before  Plato)  and  the  Psalms 
(most  of  them),  or  the  prophecies  of  Isaiah  (especially  the  later 
Isaiah)  and  Jeremiah?  There  is  not  so  much  a contradiction 
as  a different  climate  or  atmosphere — the  stress  of  things,  the 
background  of  ideals,  the  supreme  values  are  different.  The 
Jews  become  in  effect  a priestly  people,  making  the  mass  valua- 
tions absolute  and  divine. 

And  now  at  length  there  comes  an  hour  of  supreme  triumph 
and  revenge  for  them — not  indeed  for  them  individually  or  as 
a corporeal  entity,  but  for  the  soul  of  Israel,  for  their  ideal. 
In  Christianity,  born  out  of  Israel,  that  ideal  virtually  over- 
came the  old  Greco-Roman  world — overcame  the  master-morality 
that  lingered  on  in  it.  Physically  Israel  was  no  match  for  the 
Roman  Empire — those  who  strove  in  that  direction  were  not 
representative  of  her  real  strength.  But  her  mind — and  some- 
times none  develope  forces  of  mind  like  the  weak — overcame 
Rome’s  mind,  and  perhaps  even  contributed  to  Rome’s  physical 
downfall,  by  sapping  the  life  of  the  old  ideals — master-class 
ideals — on  which  the  Empire  rested.  Christianity  was  in  effect 
a message,  a gospel  to  that  class  in  the  Empire  Which  had  not 
yet  come  to  recognition  and  power — the  poor,  the  suffering,  the 
toiling,  the  heavy-laden ; it  met  their  instinctive  cravings,  gave 
them  a sense  of  their  significance,  made  them  think  themselves 
the  equals  of  those  who  had  hitherto  looked  down  upon  them,  . 
yes,  their  superiors  so  far  as  they  practised  faithfully  the  new 
m“orality — superior  not  only  in  their  own  sight,  but  actually,  as 
would  be  proved  when  Israel’s  God  should  make  over  the  world 
in  their  favor,  giving  to  them  the  felicities  of  Heaven  and  to 
their  enemies  the  sufferings  of  Hell.  It  may  seem  strange  to 
speak  of  the  spirit  of  triumph  and  revenge  in  connection  with 
Christianity.  But  let  any  one  read  the  language  of  the  best- 
known  early  Christian  apostle,  in  writing  to  one  of  the  churches 
he  had  founded:  “You  see  your  calling,  brethren,  how  that  not 


VARYING  TYPES  OF  MORALITY 


259 


many  wise  men  after  the  flesh,  not  many  mighty,  not  many 
noble  are  called ; but  God  hath  chosen  the  foolish  things  of  the 
world  to  confound  the  wise;  and  God  hath  chosen  the  weak 
things  of  the  world  to  confound  the  things  that  are  mighty; 
and  base  things  of  the  world  and  things  which  are  despised, 
yea,  and  things  which  are  not,  to  bring  to  naught  things  that 
are.  ’ ’ One  who  fails  to  catch  the  undertone  of  triumph  and 
sublimated  revenge  in  these  words  has  hardly  ears  to  hear.  A 
kind  of  animus  against  and  desire  to  humiliate  the  “noble  and 
great”  of  the  world — a spirit  of  refined  cruelty  to  them — came 
to  be  a part  of  the  Christian  tradition ; Nietzsche  cites  a striking 
passage  from  Tertullian  {de  spectac.,  29  As  gentle  a soul 

as  St.  Francis  of  Assisi  could  say,  ‘ ‘ God  has  chosen  me,  because 
he  could  find  no  lower  one,  because  he  would  turn  to  disgrace 
nobility,  greatness,  power,  beauty,  and  the  world’s  wisdom.”®®® 

V 

Such  is  an  abstract  and  meager  statement  of  the  historical 
process  by  which,  as  Nietzsche,  views  the  matter,  the  morality 
of  the  slave  or  subject  class,  the  mass,  established  itself  in  the 
world— a poor  substitute,  I own,  for  his  own  vivid  and  telling 
descriptions.^®  p He  does  not  mean  that  kindness  and  mutual 
help  and  pity  were  unknown  in  the  ancient  world — or  were 
unrecognized  as  a part  of  the  moral  code;  to  a certain  extent 
sentiments  and  actions  of  this  sort  are  necessary  for  the  main- 
tenance of  any  society — and  he  was  well  aware  of  it.  He  simply 
means  that  ideals  of  this  description  never  obtained  the  supreme 
and  dominant  place  which  they  now  have  in  the  world,  never 
were  made  absolutely  binding  on  all  men,  never  were  identified 
with  morality  itself,  before  prophetic  Israel  and  Christianity 
played  their  part.  It  was  the  triumph  of  the  common  man,  of 
the  old-time  slave  class.  Nietzsche  speaks  of  it  picturesquely  as 
the  “slave-insurrection.”  No  one  with  the  slightest  understand- 
ing of  him  will  imagine  that  he  means  by  this  anything  spectaeu- 

I Corinthians,  I,  26-8.  See  Nietzsche’s  references  to  this  passage, 
The  Antichristian,  §§  45,  51. 

Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 15. 

Quoted  by  Simmel,  op.  cit.,  p.  100. 

See  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §§  195,  52;  Genealogy  etc.,  I,  §§7-17 
(particularly  7-9  and  14-17);  Werke,  XIII,  326,  § 797;  XIV.  68-70. 


260 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


lar  or  sudden.  A subtle,  slow,  secular  revolution  in  the  mental 
and  moral  realm  is  what  he  has  in  mind — a matter,  as  he  says, 
of  two  thousand  years,  and  only  now  out  of  sight  and  con- 
sciousness, because  it  has  triumphantly  accomplished  itself.^^ 
For  us  today  “moral”  is  almost  identical  with  unegoistic,  dis- 
interested ; our  standard  is  the  well-being  of  all  or  of  the  greatest 
number — it  is  only  as  we  are  unselfish  that  we  are  good,  only 
as  we  serve  that  we  are  great.^^  This  sweeping  change  in  the 
very  meaning  of  words  is  the  insurrection.  ^Jae  former  “slave” 
is  now  on  top,  and  those  once  called  “superior,”  “mighty  ones,” 
“beautiful,”  “happy,”  “loved  of  the  Gods”  are  under:  even 
if  they  emerge,  they  have  bad  conscience  and  feel  that  they  must 
apologize  for  themselves — they  too,  forsooth,  must  serve  the 
slave,  as  the  slaves  serve  one  another ! At  the  very  best  we  men 
of  today  have  divided  minds;  Nietzsche  remarks  that  there  is 
perhaps  no  more  decisive  sign  of  a “higher  nature”  now  than 
to  be  so  divided — a battle-place  for  antithetical  sets  of  valua- 
tions.® The  reproach  is  often  made  against  him  that  he  pro- 
posed to  overturn  morality ; but  this  is  an  overturning  that  has 
already  taken  place.  The  morality  by  which  Greece  and  Rome 
lived  in  their  great  days  no  longer  rules — it  has  been  under- 
mined, sapped  by  the  Prophets  and  the  Church.  Speaking  more 
simply,  the  aristocratic  valuations,  “good”  and  “bad,”  have 
been  overthrown  by  the  mass  valuations,  “good”  and  “evil.” 
The  overturning®  which  Nietzsche  proposed  was,  in  fact,  as  we 
shall  see,  more  of  a restoration  than  a destruction.  He  par- 
ticularly says  that  by  “beyond  good  and  evil”  he  does  not  mean 
“beyond  good  and  bad” ; ® he  has  no  idea  of  transcending  moral 
distinctions  in  general,  but  simply  of  transcending  a particular 
set  of  distinctions  that  have  won  preponderance  in  the  modern, 
or  rather  Christian,  world. 

Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 7. 

Ibid.,  1,  § 2. 

Ibid.,  I,  § 16. 

The  word  which  Nietzsche  uses,  “ Umwerthung,”  is  difficult  of 
translation.  It  is  not  exact  to  say  “ overturning,”  for  this  suggests 
destruction  simply;  the  idea  is  really  of  a turning  around  or  altering  of 
values.  “ Transvaluation  ” has  come  into  popular  use  as  an  equivalent, 
but  I confess  that  I have  to  turn  it  into  German  to  know  what  it  means. 

“ Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 17. 


CHAPTER  XX 


CRITICISM  OF  MORALITY  (Cont.).  RESPONSIBILITY, 
RIGHTS  AND  DUTIES,  JUSTICE 

I PASS  now  to  Nietzsche’s  views  on  certain  details  in  morality, 
beginning  with  responsibility,  rights  and  duties,  and  justice. 

I 

We  saw,  in  dealing  with  the  preceding  period,  that  Nietzsche 
could  make  nothing  of  responsibility  in  the  sense  of  accounta- 
bility for  one’s  actions — this  idea  resting  on  that  of  free  will, 
which  to  him  was  illusory.^  The  utility  of  the  idea  he  did  not 
question,  but  it  had  no  standing  in  foro  scientiae.  In  another 
sense  of  the  word,  however,  he  held  that  responsibility  could 
really  exist,  and  that  training  to  it  had  been  a high  historic 
function  of  morality  itself.  One  is  responsible  in  this  sense  who 
will  do  as  he  has  agreed  to  do,  who  responds  to  the  expectations 
he  has  created,  who  can  be  trusted.  Nietzsche  regards  this  as 
far  from  a state  of  nature  for  men ; it  is  a cultural  result  and 
implies  a process  of  social  training.  “To  train  up  {heran- 
ziichten)  an  animal  who  can  (darf)  promise — is  this  not  just 
the  paradoxical  task  which  nature  has  set  in  respect  to  man? 
is  it  not  the  real  problem  of  man  ? ” ^ A preliminary  require- 
ment is  memory.  Psychologists  and  biologists  have  much  to  tell 
us  of  the  meaning  and  physiological  basis  of  memory;  but  how 
to  get  it  or  c^e^e^.is__anqther_p^  Forgetfulness  comes 

“iiearer  being  the  natural  state  of  man,  and,  what  is  more,  for- 
getfulness has  its  uses.  Nietzsche  regards  it  as  not  merely  a 
vis  inertiae  (perhaps  the  common  view),  but  as  an  active  power 
of  inhibition,  a form  of  health,  by  which  the  past  is  not  forever 
kept  in  sight,  and  freedom  is  gained  for  fresh  experience  and 
the  work  of  today.  The  person  in  whom  this  inhibitory  ap- 
' See  pp.  115  ff. 

“ Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 1.  This  section  is  based  on  §§  1,  2,  3 of 
Genealogy  etc.,  II,  except  when  otherwise  stated. 

261 


262 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


paratus  is  injured  and  prevented  from  acting,  may  be  compared 
to  a dyspeptic,  who  is  never  done  with  anything.  Yet  against 
this  strong  forgetfulness  is  now  to  be  developed  a contrary 
power  by  the  help  of  which  forgetfulness  is  suspended  for  cer- 
tain cases — namely,  those  where  promises  have  been  made:  not 
then  a mere  passive  inability  to  forget,  a kind  of  indigestion  in 
regard  to  a pledged  word,  but  a will  not  to  forget,  a continuous 
willing  of  what  has  been  willed,  a veritable  memory  of  the  will, 
so  that  between  the  original  “I  will,”  and  the  final  discharge 
in  act  proper,  there  is  no  break,  whatever  new  things,  circum- 
stances, or  even  volitions  may  have  intervened.  This  presup- 
poses much.  In  order  so  to  dispose  of  the  future,  one  must 
have  learned  to  distinguish  between  the  necessary  and  the  acci- 
dental, to  think  causally,  to  see  the  future  as  if  it  were  present 
and  anticipate  it,  to  fix  firmly  what  is  end  and  what  means,  to 
reckon  and  calculate  in  general.  Above  all,  a man  must  have 
become  calculable  himself — that  is  regular,  necessary,  and  this 
not  merely  to  others,  but  to  himself,  so  that  he  can  answer  for 
himself  as  a future  quantity.  How  can  a memory  of  this  sort 
be  given  to  the  human  animal — how  stamp  on  this  fiighty  crea- 
ture of  the  moment,  this  bodily  incarnation  of  forgetfulness, 
something  which  will  remain  ever  present  with  him?  How  has 
it  been  done  in  the  past  ? 

The  story  is  not  agreeable  reading — Nietzsche  thinks  that 
there  is  perhaps  nothing  more  fearful  and  uncanny  in  the  early 
history  of  mankind  than  the  technique  used  for  creating  memory 
{MnemotecJinik) . “We  burn  in  something  so  that  it  may  stay 
in  mind;  only  what  does  not  cease' to  give  pain  stays  in  the 
mind” — this  he  calls  a leading  proposition  out  of  the  oldest 
psychology  on  earth,  and  alas ! the  longest-lived.  It  might  even 
be  said  that  wherever  there  is  still  solemnity,  earnestness,  mys- 
tery, gloomy  coloring  in  the  life  of  men  and  peoples,  there 
lingers  something  of  the  after-effect  of  the  frightful  conditions 
under  which  promises,  pledges,  vows  were  originally  everywhere 
made — the  breath  of  the  oldest,  deepest,  hardest  past  is  upon  us 
and  rises  in  us,  when  we  are  “earnest.”  The  most  horrible 
sacrifices  and  forfeits  (to  which  the  sacrifices  of  the  first-born 
belong),  the  most  repulsive  mutilations  (for  example,  castra- 
tion), the  cruellest  ritual  performances  of  religious  cults — all 


RESPONSIBILITY 


263 


had  their  origin  in  the  instinct  to  look  on  pain  as  the  most 
powerful  expedient  of  mnemonics.  The  poorer  the  memory  was, 
the  more  fearful  the  practices;  the  severity  of  penal  codes  in 
particular  gives  a measure  of  how  difficult  is  was  to  get  a victory 
over  forgetfulness,  and  to  keep  present  to  slaves  of  passion  and 
the  moment  a few  primitive  requirements  of  social  life.  Nietz- 
sche refers  in  this  connection  to  the  Germans  and  their  penal 
laws:  “We  Germans  certainly  do  not  consider  ourselves  a par- 
ticularly cruel  and  hard-hearted  people,  still  less  as  particularly 
light-headed  or  living  merely  for  the  day;  hut  let  one  look  into 
our  old  criminal  codes,  if  one  wants  to  get  an  inside  view  of 
the  trouble  that  had  to  be  taken  to  train  up  a ‘people  of 
thinkers.’  ” He  instances  stoning  (according  to  legend  a mill- 
stone fell  on  the  head  of  an  insolvent  debtor),  breaking  on  a 
wheel  (the  most  characteristic  invention  and  specialty  of  Ger- 
man genius  in  the  realm  of  punishment),  impaling,  “quarter- 
ing,” seething  the  criminal  in  oil  or  wine  (still  done  in  the 
fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries),  flaying,  cutting  flesh  from 
the  breast,  also  smearing  the  evil-doer  with  honey  and  exposing 
him  to  flies  under  a burning  sun.  It  was  by  the  help  of  processes 
like  these,  or  pictures  of  them,  that  men  retained  in  their  minds 
five  or  six  “I  will  nots,”  in  respect  to  which  promise  had  been 
given  in  order  to  live  under  the  benefits  of  society — and  were 
brought  at  last  “to  reason”!  “Ah,  reason,  earnestness,  rule 
over  the  passions  {Ajfecte),  the  whole  gloomy  thing  we  call 
reflection,  all  these  privileges  and  ornaments  of  man — how 
deeply  have  they  made  themselves  paid  for,  how  much  blood 
and  horror  are  at  the  basis  of  all  ‘ good  things  ’ ” ! 

Measures  of  this  character  belong  to  the  rudimentary, 
formative  stages  of  society  everywhere.  It  is  by  the  steady 
pressure  of  social  codes  that  man  gets  a “memory  of  the  will,” 
and  is  turned  into  an  anywise  regular,  reckonable  being.  And 
the  end  justifies  the  means  here,  whatever  of  hardness,  tyranny, 
stupidity,  or  idiocy  attached  to  them.  The  Kamschatkans  re- 
quired that  snow  should  never  be  scraped  off  with  a knife,  that 
a coal  should  never  be  pierced  with  a knife,  that  iron  should 
never  be  put  into  the  fire — death  being  the  penalty  for  non- 
compliance.  The  rules  seem  absurd,  but  they  were  rules,  and 
kept  the  perpetual  nearness  of  social  authority,  the  uninter- 


264 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


rupted  compulsion  to  respect  it,  in  the  consciousness;  Nietz- 
sche thinks  that  this  was  really  their  point  rather  than  any 
utilitarian  advantage,  and  he  cites  them  to  illustrate  the  view 
already  mentioned  that  any  rule  is  better  than  no  rule,  when 
the  interests  of  civilization  are  at  stake.^ 

Let  us  attend  for  a moment  to  the  result  itself.  It  is  a 
notable  one.  Men  not  only  know  now  what  to  expect  of  one 
another  and  so  far  cease  to  be  hose  in  one  another’s  eyes,  al- 
though the  world  outside  the  group  still  has  this  character,^ 
but  they  have  a new  feeling  about  themselves.  They  can 
promise,  they  may  because  they  can — in  other  words,  they  have 
a sense  of  power.  Brandes  remarks  that  for  Nietzsche  a defini- 
tion of  man  would  be  an  animal  able  to  make  and  keep  vows 
(Geliihde)  The  animal  world  in  general  yields  no  such  phe- 
nomenon— action  is  apparently  from  the  feeling  of  the  moment, 
no  engagements  being  made  for  the  future.  I say  “men,” 
“man” — but  it  would  be  better  to  say  “some  men,”  for  those 
who  vow  and  keep  their  vows  are  marked  off  from  the  rest, 
and  naturally  acquire  a sense  of  their  distinction.  They  are 
the  ripe  fruit  of  the  social  tree ; the  ages  of  tyrannous  discipline 
receive  at  last  a justification  in  them,  and,  as  masters  of  them- 
selves, masters  of  contrary  inclinations  within  and  of  untoward 
circumstances  without,  how  can  they  fail  to  be  conscious  of 
their  superiority,  and  to  inspire  confidence,  fear,  reverence  in 
others!  “The  ‘free’  man,  the  possessor  of  a long  unbreakable 
will,  has  in  this  possession  also  his  measure  of  worth;  looking 
at  others  from  his  own  standpoint,  he  honors  or  he  despises ; and 
just  as  necessarily  as  he  honors  those  like  him,  men  strong  and 
dependable  (who  dare  promise)  ...  he  has  his  kick  ready  for 
puny  windbags  who  promise  without  having  the  right  to,  and 
his  rod  for  the  liar  who  breaks  his  word  the  moment  it  is  in 
his  mouth.”  It  is  an  extraordinary  privilege  {privilegium, 
special  and  exclusive  advantage  or  right),  that  of  responsibility, 
and  the  proud  knowledge  of  it,  the  consciousness  of  this  rare 
freedom,  this  power  over  himself  and  over  fate,  sinks  to  the 
innermost  depths  of  his  being  and  becomes  a,n  instinct,  a 

’ Dawn  of  Day,  § 16. 

* Cf.  Werke,  XI,  211,  § 132. 

' “ Aristokratischer  Radikalrtms,”  Deutsche  Rundschau,  April,  1890, 
p.  74.  Cf.  Nietzsche’s  own  language,  Werke,  XII,  411. 


RIGHTS  AND  DUTIES 


265 


dominating  instinct — he  calls  it  his  conscience  [part  of  it].®  It 
is  from  those  thus  responsible  that  the  type  of  “sovereign  indi- 
vidual” or  “person”^  (of  whom  we  have  heard  something  and 
shall  hear  more)  arises,  for  he  who  can  answer  for  himself 
becomes  naturally  a law  unto  himself. 

II 

In  connection  with  responsibility  Nietzsche  treats  of  rights 
and  duties.  Buying  and  selling  he  regards  as  among  the  oldest 
phenomena  of  human  society.  Yet  when  one  buys  and  does  not 
at  once  pay,  but  makes  a promise  to  pay,  responsibility  comes 
into  play.  The  debtor  naturally  wishes  to  inspire  his  creditor 
with  confidence,  and  may  also  wish  to  impress  on  his  own  con- 
science the  seriousness  and  sacredness  of  his  engagement;  and 
so  he  agrees  that  in  case  he  does  not  pay,  the  creditor  may  take 
over  something  that  still  belongs  to  him,  parts  of  his  body,  for 
instance,  or  his  wife,  or  his  liberty,  or  even  his  life — or,  where 
certain  religious  conceptions  prevail  (as  in  ancient  Egypt), 
his  soul’s  salvation  or  his  rest  in  the  grave.®  These  things  will 
make  up  to  the  creditor  for  his  loss,  if  he  sustains  it — be  an 
equivalent.  Bartering,  estimating  values,  fixing  prices,  devis- 
ing equivalents — this  preoccupied  the  earliest  thinking  of  man 
to  such  an  extent  that  it  was  in  a sense  thinking  itself:  here 
the  oldest  kind  of  acuteness  was  developed,  here  the  first  forms 
of  human  pride  and  sense  of  superiority  over  other  animals 
arose — perhaps  the  word  Mensch  {manas)  means  at  bottom  one 
who  measures.®  Yet  when  the  measuring  has  been  made  and 
the  equivalent  fixed  upon,  the  debtor  and  creditor  stand  in  a 
peculiar  relation:  the  former  owes,  has  a duty,  the  latter  has 
a claim,  a right.“  Duties  and  rights  were  often  grim  things 
in  early  times — particularly  rights.  There  seems  to  have  been 
a special  desire  on  the  part  of  the  creditor  to  exact  equivalents 

° Nietzsche  was  aware  ( Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 3 ) that  the  concept 
conscience  “ has  a long  history  and  has  passed  through  many  forms,”  this 
being  simply  one  of  them. 

’ Cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  813,  1009. 

® Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 5. 

° Ibid.,  II,  §8;  cf.  The  Wanderer  etc.,  §22;  Zarathustra,  I,  xv. 

Rights  may  of  course  be  guaranteed  by  others  than  the  parties 
immediately  concerned  (cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 112),  but  this  does  not  appear 
to  be  Nietzsche’s  view  of  their  origin. 


266 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


involving  pain  or  shame  to  the  debtor.  In  no  other  way  is  it 
possible  to  account  for  the  fact  that  instead  of  being  satisfied 
with  a natural  equivalent  for  his  loss,  such  as  land,  money, 
property  of  any  kind,  the  creditor  so  often  demanded  the  right 
to  mistreat  a debtor’s  body,  to  take  away  his  wife,  or  to  make 
him  a slave.  It  was  really  a right  to  cruelty : only  to  one  with 
cruel  instincts  does  suffering  yield  a pleasure  equal  or  superior 
to  that  of  a material  compensation — to  such  an  one,  indeed, 
suffering  is  the  equivalent  par  excellence.  The  right  to  cruelty 
was  graded  very  fine  at  times  and  was  very  exacting — one  could, 
for  example,  cut  from  the  debtor’s  body  just  so  and  so  much 
(according  to  the  amount  of  the  debt),  particular  parts  and 
members  having  their  special  valuation;  and  Nietzsche  deems 
it  progress  and  a proof  of  the  freer,  greater,  more  Roman  spirit, 
when  the  Twelve  Tables  made  it  a matter  of  indifference  whether 
more  or  whether  less  was  cut  off  in  a special  case — “si  plus 
minusve  secuerunt,  ne  fraude  esto.”  Whether  the  creditor 
inflicted  the  suffering  in  person  or  a functionary  of  the  group 
did  so  for  him,  made  no  essential  difference — at  least  he  could 
witness  the  suffering  and  be  satisfied.^^  This  idea  that  wrong 
may  be  compensated  for  by  suffering  has  an  important  sub- 
sequent history,  as  we  shall  see  in  the  next  chapter. 

Rights  and  duties  were  originally,  as  Nietzsche  thinks,  of 
this  very  matter-of-fact  kind,  and  the  grave,  almost  somber 
meaning  which  the  words  still  have  in  our  minds,  take  us  back 
to  the  times  when  it  was  a serious  thing  to  promise,  when  pain 
was  an  educator  to  responsibility,  and  suffering  the  common 
equivalent  for  wrong.  And  when  rights  and  duties  acquire  a 
wider  range  and  have  a more  spiritual  character,  their  ground- 
meaning and  perspective  does  not  change.®^  In  time  the  group 
comes  to  be  viewed  as  a creditor,  and  its  members  as  debtors 
to  it.  The  community  gives  advantages  (“and  what  advan- 
tages! we  underestimate  them  today,”  says  Nietzsche),  and  the 
individual  enjoys  them — he  lives  protected,  cared  for,  in  peace 
and  confidence,  with  no  concern  about  injuries  and  hostilities 
to  which  one  outside  is  exposed ; and  in  return  he  obligates 
himself  to  the  community  not  to  commit  injuries  and  hostilities 
against  his  fellow-members.  If,  however,  he  does  commit  them, 


Genealogy  etc.,  II,  §5. 


RIGHTS  AND  DUTIES 


267 


what  happens?  The  community,  the  deceived  creditor,  will 
make  itself  paid  somehow — of  that  we  may  be  sure.  The  im- 
mediate injury  inflicted  is  the  least  thing;  aside  from  this  he 
has  broken  his  word,  his  word  and  covenant  with  the  whole, 
and  all  the  goods  and  comforts  of  community  life  in  which 
he  has  hitherto  shared  are  now  in  question.  The  breaker 
{Brecher,  V erbrecher)  is  a debtor  who  not  only  does  not  repay 
the  advantages  given  him,  but  lays  violent  hands  on  his  creditor ; 
therefore  from  now  on,  as  is  reasonable,  he  not  only  loses  all 
these  advantages,  but  he  is  made  to  realize  what  their  value  is. 
The  wrath  of  the  injured  creditor  gives  him  back  to  the  wild 
outlaw  state  from  which  he  had  been  before  protected ; it  thrusts 
him  forth — and  every  kind  of  hostility  may  now  be  shown  him. 
“Funis f Solent”  is  at  this  stage  of  civilization  a copy  {Mimus) 
of  the  normal  relation  to  a hated,  disarmed,  subjugated  enemy 
The  mores  of  a community  may  soften  as  time  goes  on  and 
as  the  community  becomes  stronger,  but  the  general,  under- 
lying idea  and  basis  of  rights  and  duties  remains  the  same. 
Rights  arise  when  men  (individually  or  as  a community)  give 
something,  and  for  this  expect  a return ; duties  arise  when  men 
receive  something,  and  owe  in  return.  There  are  then  no 
rights  or  duties  in  the  abstract,  none  existing  per  se — all  are 
conditioned  on  facts  of  social  relationship,  on  exchanges  and 
contracts  (explicit  or  implied It  is  accordingly  a misuse 
of  words  to  speak  of  “rights,”  whether  of  defense  or  of  ag- 
gression, as  between  independent  social  groups,  or  for  that 
matter  between  individuals  who  are  not  socially  related,  for 
self-defense  or  aggression  under  such  circumstances  is  not  in 
accordance  with  a contract,  but  is  the  simple  outcome  of  natural 
egoism,  the  fatality  of  life  itself.^^  With  such  a view  Nietzsche 
can  even  say,  “We  have  no  right  either  to  existence,  or  to  labor, 
or  even  to  ‘happiness’:  there  is  no  difference  in  this  respect 
between  the  individual  man  and  the  lowest  worm.”^® 

But  while  rights  and  duties  rest  thus  immediately  on  eon- 

Ibid.,  II,  §9;  cf.  The  Wanderer  etc.,  §22. 

A right  “arises,”  “happens,”  much  as  “truth”  does  according  to^ 
the  Pragmatist  view — justice  also  (cf.  Werke,  XI,  143).  “There  is 
neither  a right  by  nature,  nor  a wrong  by  nature”  (The  Wanderer  etc., 
§31). 

’*  Will  to  Power,  § 728. 

'“/hid.,  § 759. 


268 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


tract,  their  more  ultimate  basis  is  certain  relations  of  power. 
The  creditor  has  a surplus,  can  part  with  something — he  has 
more  power ; but  the  debtor  also  has  a certain  amount  of  power 
— he  can  make  a return,  apart  from  which  he  is  no  better  than 
a beggar,  something  which  makes  Nietzsche  say  once  in  a 
general  way  that  it  is  our  pride  that  commands  the  doing  of 
our  duty.^®  In  other  words,  powerless  inactive  entities  with 
nothing  to  confer  acquire  no  rights,  and  incapacitated  people 
cannot  rise  to  the  dignity  of  duties.  Rights  and  duties  in  con- 
crete cases  are  a fine  equation  of  powers — as  power-quantities 
change,  they  do  too.  If  our  power  materially  diminishes,  the 
feeling  of  those  who  have  hitherto  guaranteed  our  right  changes, 
also ; they  see  whether  they  can  bring  us  again  to  full  possession 
of  our  power — if  it  is  impossible,  they  deny  hencefi  rth  our 
“rights.”  Just  so,  when  our  power  increases  considerably,  the 
feeling  of  those,  who  have  hitherto  recognized  it  and  whose 
recognition  we  now  no  longer  need,  changes — they  may  try  to 
hold  us  down  to  our  former  measure,  they  may  be  ready  to 
interfere  and  appeal  to  their  “duty”  in  this  connection — but 
it  is  only  useless  talk.  The  history  of  peoples  shows  this  waxing 
and  waning  of  rights  on  a large  scale.^^  Indeed,  Nietzsche  goes 
so  far  in  this  direction  that  he  may  seem  to  abandon  his  view 
of  the  contractual  origin  of  rights  altogether.  For  instance, 
Zarathustra  says  to  his  disciples,  “a  right  which  thou  canst 
seize,  thou  shalt  not  allow  to  be  given  thee.”^®  The  idea  of 
forcible  conquest  is  carried  into  the  innermost  regions  of  one’s 
personality.  Whoever,  we  hear,  has  finally  conquered  himself 
[not  then  simply  contracted  with  himself]  regards  it  as  his 
right  to  punish  himself,  to  pardon  himself,  to  pity  himself — it 
is  a right  he  does  not  need  to  concede  to  any  one  else,  though 
he  may  of  his  free  will  give  it  to  another  (for  instance,  a 
friend),  knowing  that  only  “those  can  give  rights  who  are  in 
possession  of  power.  ” Of  similar  tenor  is  the  statement,  ‘ ‘ we 
do  not  believe  in  a right  that  does  not  rest  on  the  power  to 
put  itself  through:  we  feel  all  rights  to  be  conquests” also 

''‘Dawn  of  Day,  § 112. 

" Ibid.,  § 112;  cf.  The  Wanderer  etc.,  §20. 

Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  § 4. 

Daion  of  Day,  § 437. 

Will  to  Poioer,  § 120. 


JUSTICE 


269 


the  remark  that  in  all  political  questions,  in  the  relation  of 
parties  as  well,  even  of  commercial  or  labor  or  employer  parties, 
the  questions  are  those  of  power — what  one  can  and  then  what 
one  should  do ; ^ and  the  hint  to  the  socialists,  earlier  referred 
to,  that  if  they  would  have  rights,  they  must  first  get  power.^ 
The  reconciling  thought  may  be  that  relations  of  power,  which 
are  the  ultimate  foundation  of  rights  and  duties  ordinarily 
arising  through  the  media  of  contract,  sometimes  give  rise  to 
rights  and  duties  directly,  i.e.,  claims  and  corresponding  obliga- 
tions which  do  not  rest  on  voluntary  consent  at  all,  but  none 
the  less  come  to  be  recognized  as  claims  and  obligations,  and 
are  practically  so  treated.'’  The  view  differs  from  the  prevailing 
one  and  easily  lends  itself  to  abuse,  and  yet  that  Nietzsche  does 
not  mean  to  sanction  any  kind  of  self-assertion,  is  shown  by 
his  saying  that  “the  worth  of  a man  should  prove  what  rights 
he  may  assume,”  and,  still  more  strongly,  that  “the  rights 
which  a man  assumes  are  in  relation  to  the  duties  he  sets  him- 
self, the  tasks  to  which  he  feels  he  is  grown.  It  is  because 
we  can  effectually  promise  much,  he  says  again,  that  we  are 
given  rights ; and  he  holds  that  those  who  cannot  promise 
(i.e.,  have  not  the  right  to,  being  slaves  to  appetite  and  the 
moment),  should  not  have  rights — an  instance  being  the  man 
with  only  cattle-like  desires  in  his  body,  who  “should  not  have 
the  right  to  marry.  ’ ’ ® 


m 

Our  English  word  “justice”  has  jural  connotations,  so  much 
so  that  Dewey  and  Tufts  are  led  to  say  that  “it  is  in  the  school 
of  government  and  courts  that  man  has  learned  to  talk  and 
think  of  right  and  law,  of  responsibility  and  justice.”^®  The 
German  word,  however,  is  “ Gerechtigkeit,”  and  Nietzsche 
thinks  that  the  idea  and  accompanying  sentiment  are  older  than 
anything  like  organized  civil  society.^^  His  account  of  the 
matter  is  somewhat  as  follows : 

^'Ibid.,  § 124. 

Human,  etc.,  § 446. 

Werke,  XIV,  119;  ^yill  to  Power,  § 872. 

IFer/ce,  XIII,  193,  § 425. 

lUd.,  XIV,  62,  § 119. 

Op.  cit.,  p.  182. 

Cf.  Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 8. 


270  NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 

That  primitive  form  of  social  relation  which  we  have  already- 
considered — bargaining  or  contracting — has  for  its  presupposi- 
tion a certain  equality  between  the  parties  concerned.  If  there 
is  decided  difference  in  strength,  one  side  is  apt  simply  to  take 
from  the  other.  But  where  there  is  approximate  equality,  and 
struggle  would  only  lead  to  reciprocal  harm,  a disposition  nat- 
urally arises  to  come  to  an  understanding,  to  treat  or  negotiate, 
the  outcome  being  an  exchange,  in  which  each  gets  what  under 
the  circumstances  he  values  most  (a  suum  cuique  in  the  material 
sense). “ This  is  the  earliest  form  of  justice,  which  is  at  bottom 
the  good  will  to  come  to  an  agreement,  to  reach  a mutually 
satisfactory  settlement,  something  like  what  the  Germans  call, 
particularly  in  its  finer  expressions,  “ Billigkeit,”  the  spirit  of 
reasonableness  and  fairness.^®  An  exchange  is  just  and  honora- 
ble, when  each  party  asks  what  he  thinks  his  article  is  worth, 
taking  into  account  the  difficulty  of  procuring  it,  its  rarity,  the 
time  spent  in  getting  it,  etc.,  along  with  the  fancy  value;  if  he 
fixes  his  price  with  an  eye  on  the  needs  of  the  other,  he  is  a 
refined  robber  and  extortioner.^®  That  is,  if  there  is  to  be 
exchange,  not  robbery,  the  spirit  of  exchange  must  be  there — 
and  it  is  with  this  in  mind  that  Nietzsche  makes  the  remark, 
already  quoted,  regarding  the  circumstances  of  today,  that  jus- 
tice must  become  greater  in  all  and  the  violent  instinct  weaker.®^ 
Justice  may  even  extend  to  the  relations  of  the  stronger  to  the 
weaker  to  a certain  extent.  Suppose,  for  example,  that  a be- 
leaguered town  finds  itself  forced  to  surrender.  It  is  plainly 
the  weaker  party,  but  for  all  that  it  has  something  on  its  side, 
something  that  it  would  be  of  use  for  the  conqueror  to  obtain. 
The  inhabitants  might  burn  the  town  and  make  way  with  them- 
selves— then  the  conqueror  would  have  little  for  his  pains. 
There  is  then  a certain  advantage  for  both  sides  in  not  going 
to  extremes — and  on  this  basis  of  mutual  advantage  they  may 
treat — each  getting  what  under  the  actual  circumstances  he 
values  most.  In  the  same  way  there  may  be  rights  between 
masters  and  slaves — that  is,  to  the  extent  the  possession  of  the 

Iluman,  etc.,  §92  (cf.  the  reference  to  “Jedem  das  Seine,”  as  the 
principle  of  Gerechtigkeit,  in  §105),  The  Wanderer  etc.,  §§  22,  26. 

Cf.  Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 8. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 25. 

•’  Human,  etc.,  § 452. 


JUSTICE 


271 


slave  is  useful  and  important  to  his  master.  Justice  goes  orig- 
inally as  far,  as  one  side  seems  valuable,  essential  to  the  other. 
The  weaker  accordingly  acquires  rights,  though  they  are  more 
limited  ones.  Hence  the  well-known  unusquisque  tantum  juris 
habet,  quantum  potentia  valet  (or  more  exactly,  Nietzsche  says, 
quantum  potentia  valere  creditur).^  The  underlying  motive 
of  justice,  Nietzsche  points  out,  is  individual  advantage — in 
just  exchange  each  one  profits;  although  in  time  the  original 
motive  may  be  forgotten,  and  just  actions  may  seem  disinter- 
ested or  unegoistic.^ 

This  of  the  beginnings  of  justice.  Needless  to  say,  it  takes 
on  finer  forms  as  social  life  advances.  It  gives  rise  to  settled 
mores;  it  comes  under  the  protection  of  government  and  courts, 
though  itself  subtler  than  anything  which  government  and 
courts  can  command;  it  passes  into  reasonableness,  fairness 
{Billigkeit)  in  general.^  Justice  is  good  will  and  intelligence 
combined — there  cannot  be  justice  without  both.  Plato  held 
that  justice  could  not  be  separated  from  wisdom,  the  true 
measure  of  all  the  relations  of  life,^^  but  Nietzsche ’s  view  is  that 
justice  is  measuring — the  intellectual,  objective  attitude  is  part 
of  its  essence.  In  accordance  with  this  view,  he  speaks  of 
the  high,  clear,  deep-  as  well  as  mild-glancing  objectivity  of 
the  just  man,  when  he  is  not  only  injured,  but  insulted,  mocked, 
as  a piece  of  perfection,  a specimen  of  the  highest  mastery  on 
earth.^ 

And  hereby  is  justice  differentiated  from  revenge.  Justice 
has  sometimes  been  derived  from  revenge,  being  supposed  to  be 
a sublimated  form  of  it — it  was,  I think,  the  view  in  substance 
of  John  Stuart  Mill,  and  it  was  held  by  a German  contemporary 
of  Nietzsche’s,  to  whom  he  pays  some  attention,  Eugen 
Diihring.^^  And  if  revenge  were  simply  return  of  some  kind, 
Nietzsche  would  have  no  occasion  to  dissent ; he  sometimes 
speaks  himself  of  gratitude  as  the  good  revenge,  of  mag- 

Ihid.,  § 93.  In  relation  to  the  weaker  among  themselves,  who 
might  not  come  to  agreements  voluntarily,  justice  consists  in  forcing 
them  to  an  agreement  {Genealogy  etc.,  II,  §8;  cf.  § II). 

Human,  etc.,  § 92. 

**  Cf.  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 32. 

So  Dewey  and  Tufts,  op.  cit.,  p.  116. 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  §11. 

Nietzsche  mentions  particularly  Diihring’s  Werth  des  Lehens,  and 
Cursus  der  Philosophie  (Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 11). 


272 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


nanimity  as  a sublimated  revenge.^®  But  ordinarily — and  prac- 
tically always  in  discussing  the  relation  of  revenge  to  justice 
— lie  means  by  revenge  what  most  of  us  mean,  namely,  an 
instinctive  tendency,  half  of  the  blood  and  liable  to  all  manner 
of  excess,  to  strike  back  when  we  are  injured  or  affronted.  He 
construes  it  as  one  of  the  expressions  of  the  instinct  for  power, 
which,  having  been  temporarily  thwarted,  seeks  to  assert  itself 
and  feel  itself  again.^®  Now  justice,  too,  calls  for  a return  for 
injuries;  for,  to  revert  to  its  earliest  and  simplest  form,  when 
a debtor  does  not  pay  his  debt,  the  creditor  may  exact  a sub- 
stitute for  it ; the  substitute  or  equivalent  has  been  agreed  upon 
beforehand,  and  the  creditor  has  a strict  right  to  it — the  debtor’s 
property  or  wife  or  person  may  become  forfeit.  And  when 
injuries  become  offenses  against  the  community,  compensation 
of  some  sort  comes  to  be  the  right  of  every  injured  person — 
that  is,  under  justice  also,  a second  injury  follows  the  first. 
Revenge  and  justice  may  thus  seem  to  come  to  much  the  same 
thing.  And  yet  they  are  distinct  from  one  another.  For  under 
justice,  the  compensating  injury  which  the  injured  person  in- 
flicts (or  has  inflicted  for  him)  is  in  accordance  with  an  under- 
standing in  advance,  either  directly  between  the  parties,  or  as 
a matter  of  general  custom  and  law ; measuring  eyes  have  been 
at  work  fixing  it,  there  is  definition  and  limitation — there  can 
be  then  no  varying  or  excess.  In  other  words,  justice  is  an 
intellectual  matter,  and  hence  directly  antithetical  to  the  blind 
rage  with  which  rage  does  its  work.  Revenge  is  for  injury 
simply  and  is  dictated  by  the  sense  of  injury;  just  requital  is 
for  a wrong  (violation  of  contraet  or  agreement)  and  is  deter- 
mined by  an  antecedent  idea  of  what  is  fair  and  reasonable. 
Revenge  is  personal,  justice  borders  on  impersonality.  In  the 
one,  the  blood  rushes  to  our  eyes  so  that  we  do  not  see,  justice 
is  seeing  (or  remembering  what  we  saw).  So  different  are  they 
in  origin  and  principle,  that  revenge  may  overthrow  justice, 
and  justice  may  set  limits  to  revenge.^”  It  becomes  a leading 
function  of  the  state  (when  such  a thing  arises)  to  put  an  end 
to  the  blind  raging  of  revenge,  and  either  to  rescue  the  victims 
or  else  to  proceed  against  them  itself  for  the  injuries  they  have 

Will  to  Power,  § 775;  Werke,  XIII,  190,  §420. 

= ■>01.  Werke.  XIII,  188-92  (§§418,  419,  424). 

Ibid.,  XIII,  193,  § 429. 


JUSTICE 


273 


committed,  persuading  or  compelling  the  injured  party  to  ac- 
cept compensations,  equivalents,  in  lieu  of  revenge  “ Here  lies 
the  reason  why  those  in  the  habit  of  practising  revenge — those 
who  keep  up  “blood-feuds,”  for  instance — are  reluctant  to 
come  under  the  control  of  the  state,  and  have  to  have  justice 
forced  upon  them.^  The  state  makes  private  injuries  offenses 
against  it,  and  the  treatment  of  them  is  so  far  taken  out  of  the 
jurisdiction  of  personal  feeling ; it  virtually  adopts  what  Nietz- 
sche calls  the  oldest,  simplest  canon  of  justice,  “everything  has 
its  price,  all  can  be  paid  for,”  and  trains  its  subjects  in  this 
objective,  impersonal  way  of  looking  at  things — even  influenc- 
ing, though  perhaps  least  and  last  of  all,  the  injured  person 
himself.^^  As  I might  put  it  briefly,  under  the  state  justice 
becomes  law  (which  is  far  from  saying,  I need  not  add,  that 
law  is  ipso  facto  justice). 

The  state,  viewing  injuries  as  offenses  against  itself,  punishes 
them.  But  Nietzsche  notes  that  as  political  communities  become 
stronger,  they  take  offenses  less  seriously,  and  mitigate  their 
penal  codes.  A private  creditor  naturally  becomes  more 
humane,  as  his  wealth  increases — it  may  even  be  a measure  of 
his  wealth  how  much  he  can  lose  without  appreciably  suffering. 
And  a consciousness  of  power  on  the  part  of  a political  society 
is  not  unthinkable,  in  which  it  might  indulge  itself  in  a luxury 
than  which  there  could  be  no  greater — that  of  letting  offenders 
go  unpunished.  With  easy  sense  of  its  superiority  it  might  say, 
“What  are  these  parasites  to  me? — let  them  live  and  thrive. 
I can  stand  it.”  And  so  the  justice  that  began  with  the  dictum, 
“Everything  is  payable,  everything  must  be  paid  for,”  would 
end  by  looking  through  its  fingers  at  those  who  are  insolvent 
and  letting  them  go  free — end  as  all  good  things  on  earth  do, 
by  abrogating  itself  {sich  selbst  aufhehend) . There  is  a beau- 
tiful name  for  this  self-abrogation  of  justice — grace.  It  is  a 
prerogative  of  what  is  mightiest — its  beyond  law  {sein  Jenseits 
des  Rechts).^ 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 11. 

Ihid.,  II,  § 11;  cf.  also  Werlce,  XIII,  194,  § 430,  where  the  point  of 
view  of  those  forced  is  given. 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 11.  I need  not  say  that  so  far  as  men  take 
the  law  into  their  own  hands,  as  in  parts  of  our  own  country,  there  is 
reversion  to  primitive  pre-political  conditions. 

Ibid..  II.  10. 


CHAPTER  XXI 


CRITICISM  OF  MORALITY  (Cont.).  BAD  CONSCIENCE,  A 
MORAL  ORDER,  OUGHT,  EQUALITY 

I 

I CONFESS  that  in  taking  up  Nietzsche’s  analysis  of  “bad  con- 
science, ’ ’ I find  it  difficult  to  trace  a clear  and  consistent  course 
of  thought.  The  main  treatment  of  the  subject  is  in  the  second 
treatise  of  Genealogy  of  Morals. 

First,  it  may  be  noted  that  elsewhere,  and  incidentally  here, 
he  often  uses  the  phrase  in  a way  that  causes  no  perplexity.  It 
simply  designates  the  feeling  which  one  has  in  departing  from 
a standard  which  one  acknowledges.  The  first  standards  of 
men  were,  as  already  explained,  social;  to  disobey  the  group’s 
mores  in  any  particular  was  attended  with  an  uneasy  conscious- 
ness. Even  to  have  different  ideas  from  those  commonly  recog- 
nized did  not  seem  quite  right,  and  science  has  often  come  into 
the  world  stealthily,  feeling  like  a transgressor,  or  at  least  like 
a smuggler.^  The  phenomenon  continues  in  its  essential  fea- 
tures down  to  the  present  day.  To  a troubled  young  friend 
Nietzsche  wrote : “ It  is  curious  to  observe : he  who  early  departs 
from  traditional  paths  to  enter  on  one  that  seems  right  to  him- 
self, has  always  half  or  altogether  the  feeling  of  a man  who  has 
been  exiled  and  condemned  by  others  and  has  fled  away:  this 
kind  of  bad  conscience  is  the  suffering  of  the  independently 
good.”^  He  thinks  it  impossible  to  estimate  what  just  the 
rarer,  seleeter,  more  original  minds  in  the  past  have  suffered 
from  the  fact  that  they  were  looked  upon  as  hose  and  dan- 
gerous— yes,  appeared  so  to  themselves.*  But  there  may  be 
individual  as  well  as  social  standards,  and  one  may  have  “bad 
conscience”  when  one  forgets  these  too.  “Why  do  we  have 

' Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 90. 

* Werke  (pocket  ed. ),  V,  vii;  cf.  Joyful  Science,  § 296. 

’ Dawn  of  Day,  § 9. 


274 


BAD  CONSCIENCE 


275 


pricks  of  conscience  {Gewissensbisse)  after  ordinary  social  com- 
panies? Because  we  have  taken  serious  things  lightly,  because 
in  discussing  persons  we  have  not  spoken  with  complete  loyalty, 
or  because  we  have  been  silent  when  we  should  have  spoken, 
because  we  have  not  on  occasion  sprung  up  and  taken  ourselves 
off — in  short,  because  we  conducted  ourselves  in  society  as  if 
we  belonged  to  it.”^  A scientific  man  may  have  bad  conscience, 
if  he  allows  himself  views  unsupported  by  scientific  evidence.® 
One  who  has  determined  to  become  and  achieve  something  in 
his  own  person  may  have  bad  conscience,  if  he  allows  himself  to 
be  allured  into  ordinary  benevolent  work — it  is  something  which 
may  accompany  altruistic  acts  as  well  as  egoistic  ones.®  Emer- 
son seems  to  have  experienced  it  when  he  succumbed  to  certain 
philanthropic  appeals,  calling  it  a “wicked  dollar”  that  he  on 
occasion  gave  for  “your  miscellaneous  popular  charities,  the 
education  at  college  of  fools,  the  building  of  meeting-houses  to 
the  vain  end  to  which  many  now  stand,  alms  to  sots,  and  the 
thousandfold  Relief  Societies.”^  In  one  of  Stendhal’s  novels 
a Jew  has  a bad  conscience  when  he  falls  in  love  and  takes 
money  out  of  his  business  for  a bracelet ; and  so  it  was  with 
Napoleon,  remarks  Nietzsche,  after  he  had  performed  a gen- 
erous act,  and  may  be  with  a diplomat  who  for  once  is  honora 
ble.®  Sometimes  the  feeling  may  be  indicated  in  indirect  ways, 
as  when  a man,  conscious  of  the  callings  of  a higher  self,  but 
giving  himself  up  to  society  or  official  work  or  his  family,  talks 
much  of  fulfilling  his  “duty” — he  seeks  thereby  to  excuse  him- 
self to  himself,  to  quiet  himself.®  Nietzsche  himself  wished  to 
give  a bad  conscience  to  other-worldly  aspirations,  to  the  anti- 
natural ideals  of  Christianity  and  Schopenhauer,  i.e.,  he  wished 
to  set  up  a standard  from  which  these  would  be  felt  as  a con- 
scious defection.^®  There  is  no  special  difficulty  in  understanding 
bad  conscience  in  cases  like  these. 

* Human,  etc.,  § 351. 

' Cf.  the  suggestions  of  Will  to  Power,  § 328. 

“ Werke,  XII,  123-4,  § 243. 

’ Essay  on  “ Self-Eelianee.” 

* Werke,  XI,  266,  § 260. 

° Ibid.,  XI,  216,  § 145.  “All  that  he  now  does,  is  brave  and  proper 
{ordentlich) — and  yet  he  has  with  it  a bad  conscience.  For  the  extraordi- 
nary (AusserordentlicJie)  is  his  task”  (Joyful  Science,  §186). 

“ Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 24. 


276 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


But  in  making  a problem  of  “bad  conscience”  Nietzsche  has. 
in  mind  something  different — at  least  graver.  If  I should  say 
“guilt”  or  “sense  of  guilt,”  I should  more  nearly  suggest  it — 
though  guilt,  too,  may  have  different  shades  of  intensity  or 
blackness.  The  guilt  he  has  in  mind  is  that  implied  when  man 
is  spoken  of  as  a guilty  being  or  as  having  a guilty  nature.  It 
is  the  religious,  or  more  specifically  still,  the  Christian  con- 
ception of  guilt,  the  conception  essentially  shared  by  Schopen- 
hauer, that  concerns  him.  With  it  a man  feels  wrong  in  his 
essential  make-up,  particularly  in  the  animal  ground-work  of  his 
being.  He  looks  on  his  natural  impulses  with  an  evil  eye,  finds 
something  praiseworthy  in  denying  them,  chastising  them, 
mortifying  them.^^  Sometimes  one  goes  so  far  in  painful  self- 
analysis  that  one  draws  up  a list  of  the  things  that  make  one 
ashamed  of  oneself — as  Pope  Innocent  III  did,  who  enumerated 
“impure  procreation,  nauseous  nourishment  in  the  womb,  base- 
ness of  the  material  out  of  which  man  grows,  abominable 
stenches,  secretion  of  spittle,  urine,  and  excrement.  ” How 
could  an  attitude  like  this — a bad  conscience  about  man  as  man — 
have  come  about?  What  were  its  probable  beginnings? 

Nietzsche  starts  out  by  saying  that  guilt  originally  was  a 
form  of  debt — or  rather  a development  of  it  under  certain 
conditions.  The  German  word  Schuld,  I may  note,  means  both 
debt  and  guilt.  A debt  arises  when  one  does  not  pay  for 
something  one  has  received  at  once,  but  if  one  does  not  pay 
eventually,  one  owes  something  more,  namely,  the  substitute, 
equivalent,  or  pledge  for  the  debt,  which  at  the  outset  was 
agreed  upon.  The  latter  is  guilt  in  the  full,  or  at  least  dis- 
tinctive, sense  of  the  term ; the  act  is  a wrong  or  trespass  proper 
and  one  can  only  expect  the  infliction  of  the  penalty.  It  is 
interesting  to  note  that  in  our  English  version  of  the  Lord’s 
Prayer,  “debts”  and  “sins”  (or  “trespasses”)  are  used  inter- 
changeably,^^— a sin  or  trespass  is  simply  an  increased  or 

” Cf.  Genealogy  etc.,  II,  §§  16,  18,  24.  Schopenhauer’s  view  is  given 
in  his  Werke  (Grisebach  ed.),  II,  596,  669  f.,  681  ff.,  710f.;  IV,  78;  V, 
298  f.,  317,  329  ff.  See  Volkelt’s  chap.,  “Das  Dasein  als  Schuld,”  in  his 
Schopenhauer  (particularly  pp.  280-2). 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 7. 

’•Matthew  vi,  12;  Luke  xi,  4.  The  Greek  words  are  respectively 
b^ei'ktyiaTa  and  afiapriaa;  the  word  for  debtors  is  virtually  the  same 
in  both  places. 


BAD  CONSCIENCE 


277 


heightened  debt.  Following  this  cue  and  remembering  that, 
as  already  explained,  creditor  and  debtor  relations  come  to  apply 
to  the  community  and  its  individual  members,  it  is  easy  to  see 
how  immorality  in  general,  i.e.,  non-conformity  to  the  com- 
munity’s mores,  may  be  felt  as  guilt — i.e.,  how  “bad  con- 
science,” in  the  customary  moral  sense  of  the  phrase,  may 
arise.  In  immorality  of  any  kind  there  would  come  to  be  a 
certain  “fearful  looking  for  of  judgment,”  and,  the  tendency 
to  immorality  being  observed  to  be  deep,  it  might  easily  be 
concluded  that  it  had  its  roots  in  a guilty  nature.  This  is  a 
line  of  thought,  however,  which  Nietzsche,  oddly  enough,  does 
not  follow  up.  He  starts  on  it,’^  and  then  stops  or  switches 
off — and  even  proceeds  to  argue  at  length  that  punishme^it  does 
not  give  the  feeling  of  guilt,  and  rather  works  to  harden,  at  best 
stimulating  prudence  and  taming  the  transgressor  (not  making 
him  better).^® ^ But  has  any  one  ever  argued  that  punishment 
produced  the  sense  of  guilt? — the  latter  being  obviously  the 
direct  result  of  violating  an  admitted  standard.  Surely,  to  call 
in  something  extraordinary  and  catastrophic  to  explain  “bad 
conscience,”  because  punishment  does  not  account  for  it,  seems 
strange  and  unnecessary.  Yet  this  is  what  Nietzsche  does. 
For  directly  after  arguing  the  inefficacy  of  punishment,  he 
broaches  his  own  special  view.  This  is  that  bad  conscience  had 
its  origin  in  that  most  thoroughgoing  of  all  the  changes  which 
man  has  experienced  in  the  course  of  his  history,  the  change 
consequent  on  coming  definitively  under  the  jurisdiction 
{Bonn)  of  society  and  of  peace.  Up  to  this  time — I need  not 
say  that  Nietzsche  is  referring  to  a prehistoric  period — he  had 
been  little  more  than  a wild,  roving  animal,  free  to  follow  all 
his  natural  instincts,  including  those  to  pursue,  -surprise,  injure, 
and  kill.  Suddenly,  however,  he  found  himself  subjected  to  a 
social  strait-jacket,  and  his  old  instincts  were  deprived  of  an 
outlet.  With  then  no  outer  vent,  but  still  fresh  and  strong, 
these  instincts  turned  on  their  possessor — man  became  hostile, 
cruel  to  himself.  “Enmity,  cruelty,  pleasure  in  pursuit,  in 

See  Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 4 (p.  350 — the  paging  is  the  same  in  both 
pocket  and  octavo  editions  of  the  German  original  of  this  book)  ; also, 
§8  (p.  360),  and  § 14  (p.  375)  ; the  analogy  of  the  community  and  its 
members  to  the  creditor  and  debtor  is  worked  out  in  § 9. 

>'/6f(Z.,  II,  §§  15,  16. 


278 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


surprise,  in  change,  in  destruction — all  this  turning  itself 
against  the  possessor  of  such  instincts,  this  is  the  origin  of  ‘bad 
conscience.  ’ The  man  who,  in  lack  of  outer  enemies  and  opposi- 
tions, confined  under  a close,  oppressive,  and  unvarying  regime 
of  mores,  went  at  himself  impatiently,  rending,  pursuing,  biting, 
startling,  mistreating  himself,  this  animal,  put  into  a cage  to  be 
tamed  and  bruising  himself  against  its  bars,  this  creature,  who, 
deprived  of  his  wilderness  and  consumed  with  homesickness  for 
it,  has  to  make  out  of  himself  a field  of  adventure,  a place  of 
torture,  an  uncertain  and  dangerous  wilderness — this  fool,  this 
longing  and  despairing  captive  became  the  inventor  of  ‘bad 
conscience.’  ” The  change  in  situation  was  so  great  that  Nietz- 
sche compares  it  to  what  water-animals  must  have  experienced 
when  they  were  first  obliged  to  live  on  land,  and,  instead  of 
being  upborne,  had  to  go  on  foot  and  “carry  themselves” — a 
horrible  heaviness  seized  upon  them.  In  default  of  guidance 
from  their  old  impulses,  men  had  to  fall  back  on  thinking,  rea- 
soning, calculating,  combining  causes  and  effects,  in  general  on 
their  “consciousness” — the  organ  in  them  that  had  been 
poorest  developed  and  was  most  liable  to  err.  Never  on  earth 
was  there  such  feeling  of  misery,  such  leaden  discomfort  as 
then;  and  yet  the  old  instincts  were  still  there  and  unsatisfied, 
and  blindly  produced  the  result  just  mentioned.^® 

If  it  be  asked  how  man  could  be  subjugated,  what  or  who 
there  was  to  subject  him,  the  answer  is  “other  men.”  Some 
superior  group  or  race,  falling  on  wandering,  formless  popula- 
tions, subjugated  them  and  clapped  their  iron  rule  upon  them. 
The  feeling  of  misery,  the  unsatisfied  instincts  preying  on  their 
possessor,  which  make  the  essence  of  “bad  conscience,”  do  not 
appear  in  the  conquering,  ruling  class,  but  in  the  conquered. 
“Bad  conscience”  is  not  a universal  phenomenon,  and  the  con- 
querors, as  Nietzsche  conceives  them  in  the  present  instance, 
are  quite  without  it  in  what  they  do.^^ 

Nietzsche  notes  that  all  depends,  in  his  theory,  on  the 
suddennesss  of  the  supposed  change  to  which  the  wild 
populations  were  subjected;  if  there  had  been  a gradual, 

TUd.,  II,  § 16. 

Ihid.,  II,  § 17;  cf.  I,  § 11,  and  a remark  as  to  the  aggressive  man 
in  general,  II,  § 11  (p.  366). 


BAD  CONSCIENCE 


279 


voluntary  passing  from  a wild  to  a civilized  (or  semi- 
civilized)  state,  an  organic  growing  into  new  conditions, 
the  old  instincts  would  have  fallen  little  by  little  into  disuse 
and  lost  the  vigor  and  edge  needed  to  produce  the  characteristic 
features  of  the  new  phenomenon.  The  roving  populations  were 
violently  subjected — there  was  no  give  and  take,  no  contract: 
the  earliest  “state,”  Nietzsche  remarks  (and  here  he  expresses 
a not  uncommon  opinion),  was  a fearful  tyranny — it  was  only 
in  this  way  that  the  raw  formless  material  could  be  kneaded, 
made  pliant,  and  given  a shape.^®  He  does  not  mean  (I  take  it) 
that  this  was  done  for  all  the  world  at  once,  but  only  that  the 
process  of  subjugation  and  social  formation  was  of  this  char- 
acter as  it  occurred:  always  was  there  for  those  subjected  a 
violent  break  with  their  animal  past,  the  old  instincts  then  sur- 
viving in  latent  form  and  forced  to  act  in  the  subterranean  way 
described.  Neither  does  he  mean  that  the  full  result — bad  con- 
science as  we  find  it,  for  instance,  in  Buddhism,  Christianity, 
and  Schopenhauer — was  reached  at  once ; it  suffices  to  his  theory 
if  the  general  characteristic  features  of  the  new  phenome- 
non appeared — if  men  savagely  turned  on  themselves,  and 
preyed  on  themselves,  however  confused  their  feelings  might 
be.^® 

The  theory  probably  strikes  the  reader  (as  it  has  me)  as 
far-fetched  and  artificial,  and  I should  add  that  Nietzsche 
simply  speaks  of  it  as  “my  hypothesis”  and  calls  the  exposition 
of  it  which  we  have — as  it  turns  out,  the  only  one — a “first 
preliminary  expression.”  And  yet  it  covers  three  points  in  the 
phenomenon  in  a rather  striking  manner ; first,  the  sharpness 
of  “bad  conscience,”  its  stinginess  and  fierceness,  these  being 
traced  to  primitive  instincts  of  cruelty — simple  departure  from 
an  admitted  standard  might  not  yield  anything  so  extreme; 
second,  the  sense  of  a guilty  nature  (not  merely  of  wrong  acts), 
man’s  animal  make-up  being  particularly  in  mind — this  coming 
from  a forced  and  violent  break  with  an  animal  past ; third,  the 
lack  of  reason  and  intelligence  in  the  phenomenon  (as  Nietzsche 
views  the  matter,  for  he  regards  it  as  an  Erkrankung) , this  be- 

“ Ibid.,  II,  § 17. 

" Nietzsche  once  speaks  of  what  has  been  described  as  the  crude 
beginnings  (Rohzustand)  of  the  feeling  of  guilt  (ibid.,  Ill,  §20). 


280 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


cause  a hitherto  unused  instrument,  the  conscious  reasoning 
mind,  was  now  for  the  first  time  acting. 

Positive  proofs  of  the  hypothesis  are,  of  course,  impossible — 
Nietzsche  does  not  offer  any.  I suspect  that  the  idea  of  it  came 
to  him  from  something  he  observed — or  thought  he  observed — 
in  quarters  nearer  home.  We  find  him  describing,  for  instance, 
the  probable  spiritual  fortunes  of  a German  noble,  when 
brought  under  the  influence  of  the  Church  in  the  early  Middle 
Ages  and  shut  up  in  a monastery.  It  is  in  the  course  of  a 
discussion  of  two  historic  methods  of  “bettering”  man,  one  of 
taming  the  animal  man,  the  other  of  rearing  a certain  type. 
These  are  zoological  terms,  and  the  former  process  is  like  what 
goes  on  in  menageries  with  wild  beasts — they  are  weakened, 
their  power  to  harm  is  diminished,  they  are  made  sickly 
through  fear,  pain,  wounds,  and  hunger.  It  seemed  to  him  that 
something  of  this  sort  was  what  a German  “blond  beast”  under- 
went, when  he  was  tamed  by  the  Church,  above  all  when  lured 
into  a monastery.  The  Church  was  a kind  of  menagerie,  and 
the  most  beautiful  examples  of  the  “blond  beast”  were  every- 
where hunted  down  in  its  interest.  And  how  did  one  of  these 
“bettered”  nobles  look  within  the  monastery  walls?  Nietzsche 
answers,  “like  a caricature  of  man,  like  an  abortion;  he  had 
become  a ‘sinner,’  he  was  fast  in  a cage,  he  had  been  shut  in 
between  horrible  conceptions.  . . . There  he  lay,  sick,  wretched, 
malevolent  against  himself : full  of  hatred  against  the  impulses 
of  life,  full  of  suspicion  against  everything  that  was  still  strong 
and  happy.  Plainly  it  is  a phenomenon  much  like  that  to 
which  we  have  just  been  attending — only  that  now  it  is  a 
superior  type  of  man  instead  of  a wandering  savage  who  is 
subjugated,  and  that  the  subjugating  force  is  spiritual  rather 
than  physical.  What  seems  to  me  likely  is  that  Nietzsche  gen- 
eralized from  instances  of  this  kind.  The  passage  is  in  a later 
book  than  Genealogy  of  Morals,  but  the  reflection  may  have 
been  earlier.  A similar  psychology  of  bad  conscience  is  pre- 
supposed in  another  passage.  Answering  the  question,  “What 
is  it  in  Christianity  we  fight  against?”  he  says,  “That  it  seeks 
to  crush  the  strong,  to  take  away  their  spirit,  to  exploit  their 
bad  hours  and  wearinesses,  to  convert  their  proud  assurance 
““  Twilight  of  the  Idols,  vii,  § 2. 


BAD  CONSCIENCE 


281 


into  unrest  and  distress  of  conscience;  that  it  knows  how  to 
turn  superior  instincts  into  poison  and  to  make  them  sick,  till 
their  force,  their  will  to  power  turns  backwards,  turns  against 
themselves — till  the  strong  go  to  pieces  from  the  extravagances 
of  their  self -contempt  and  self -mistreatment : that  appalling 
way  of  going  to  pieces,  the  most  illustrious  example  of  which 
is  furnished  by  Pascal.  ’ ’ The  same  essential  idea  is  repeated 

when  he  says  that  now  that  the  slave-morality  of  humility, 
selflessness,  absolute  obedience  has  conquered  in  the  world,  ruling 
natures  are  eondemned  either  to  hypocrisy  or  to  torments  of 
conscience.^  It  is  an  identical  inner  experience  in  all  these 
cases,  and  the  process  of  generating  it  is  the  same.  Whether 
the  conquerors  are  an  early  superior  race  or  a reflned  spiritual 
power  like  Christianity,  whether  those  conquered  are  primitive 
roving  populations  or  splendid  examples  of  the  “blond  beast,” 
like  German  nobles  of  the  early  Middle  Ages,  conquest  lies  at 
the  basis  of  the  phenomenon,  instincts  that  had  been  free  and 
strong  before  turning  while  still  strong  against  their  possessor 
and  making  him  ill.  The  amount  of  truth  in  the  view  may  be 
left  to  future  criticism  to  disentangle. 

Despite  Nietzsche’s  unsympathetic  tone,  he  is  far  from  re- 
garding the  rise  of  bad  conscienee  as  an  unmixed  evil — and  he 
warns  us  against  thinking  lightly  of  it.  Let  one  read  § 18,  and 
note  also  the  close  of  § 16,  of  Genealogy  of  Morals,  II.  When — 
he  says  in  substance — man  turns  against  himself  in  the  way' 
described,  when  his  old  Bosheit  is  directed  inward,  a new  line  of 
possibilities  is  opened  for  him;  he  awakens  an  interest,  a sur- 
prise, a hope,  almost  a certainty,  as  if  something  were  heralding 
itself  in  him,  as  if  he  were  no  goal,  but  only  a way,  an  episode, 
a bridge,  a great  promise.  Sickness  is  utilizable — it  is  one  of 
Nietzsche’s  constant  points  of  view — and  this  sickness  may  be 
one  only  as  pregnancy  is.^^  A new  kind  of  self  may  be  fash- 
ioned by  the  cruel  instincts  working  remorselessly  on  the  ma- 
terial against  which  they  turn — if  they  criticise,  contradict, 
despise,  say  “no”  to  this  and  that  and  burn  it  in,  it  may  all  be 
to  this  end.  He  speaks  of  this  active  bad  conscience  as  a veritable 

to  Power,  § 252  (the  italics  are  mine ) . As  to  Pascal,  cf  .. 
Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 229 ; The  Antichristian,  § 5. 

“ Will  to  Power,  § 870  (italics  are  mine). 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 19. 


282 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


womb  of  ideal  and  imaginative  results,  a bringer  forth  of  a 
fullness  of  new  strange  affirmations  and  beauties.  It  may  be, 
he  adds,  that  it  first  created  beauty  in  general — “for  what 
would  ‘beautiful’  mean,  if  contradiction  had  not  first  been  sensi- 
bly felt,  if  the  ugly  had  not  first  said  to  itself,  ‘I  am  ugly’?” 
At  least,  after  this  hint,  he  thinks  that  the  enigma  becomes  less 
enigmatical  how  far  an  ideal,  a beauty  may  be  intimated  in 
contradictory  conceptions  such  as  self-lessness,  self-denial,  self- 
sacrifice — one  thing  being  henceforth  plain,  namely,  of  what 
sort  the  pleasure  is  from  the  start  which  the  selfless,  self- 
denying,  self-sacrificing  person  experiences:  it  is  a pleasure  be- 
longing to  cruelty.^'*  This  line  of  reflection  is  developed  but  a 
very  little  way,  and  Nietzsche  is  far  from  reaching  a balanced 
view  on  the  general  subject.  But  we  may  say  with  assurance 
that  he  was  not  without  appreciation  for  ascetic  ideals,  and 
recognized  a place  for  them  in  the  world,  even  if  he  did  not 
personally  share  them.^®  Moreover,  he  had  no  repugnance  to 
bad  conscience  in  itself;  he  wished  rather,  as  we  have  already 
seen,  to  create  it  in  a new  form,  to  give  it  to  persons  quite 
innocent  of  it  at  the  present  time,  namely,  to  those  who,  dis- 
loyal to  this  world,  cultivate  other-world  aspirations,  anti- 
natural ideas — to  Christians  (of  the  historic  type),  to  followers 
of  Schopenhauer.^®  He  once  said  that  for  some  a spasm  of 
repentance  may  be  the  highest  exercise  of  their  humanity,^  and 
he  wanted  the  Christian  world  to  have  a taste — and  more  than 
a taste — of  it.  Whether  he  was  strong  enough  to  conquer  in 
this  fashion  and  breed  bad  conscience  anew — for  it  is  a question 
of  strength  and  conquest — is  one  of  the  future’s  problems. 


“Nietzsche  makes  a supplementary  remark  here:  “So  much  toward 
tracing  the  origin  of  the  ‘ unegoistic  ’ as  a moral  value,  and  toward 
marking  out  the  soil  out  of  which  this  value  has  grown:  first  bad  con- 
science, first  the  will  for  self-mistreatment  furnishes  the  presupposition 
for  the  value  of  the  unegoistic”  (ibid.,  II,  §18).  Nietzsche  must  use 
“ unegoistic  ” here  in  a more  special  sense  than  that  in  which  he  recognized 
the  significance  and  value  of  the  unegoistic  for  social  formations  in  general, 
as  noted  previously  (pp.  216-7);  and  even  the  present  remark  does  not 
deny  the  value  of  the  unegoistic. 

““  See  the  discussion  of  ascetic  ideals  in  Genealogy  etc.,  Ill — the 
whole  of  the  treatise  is  devoted  to  that  subject.  In  a certain  broad  (not 
the  Christian ) sense,  it  may  be  a question  whether  Nietzsche  did  not  share 
ascetic  ideals. 

“ Cf.  Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 24. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 252. 


A MORAL  ORDER 


283 


n 

The  idea  of  a moral  order  in  the  world  rests  ultimately, 
according  to  Nietzsche,  on  an  attempt  to  infect  the  very  nature 
of  things  with  conceptions  of  guilt  and  punishment  such  as  those 
we  have  been  considering.^®  He  states  the  personal  form  of  the 
assumption  thus:  “That  there  is  a will  of  God  as  to  what  man 
is  to  do,  to  refrain  from  doing;  that  the  worth  of  a people,  or 
an  individual,  is  determined  by  the  extent  to  which  the  will 
of  God  is  obeyed ; that  in  the  fortunes  of  a people  or  individual, 
the  will  of  God  demonstrates  itself  as  governing,  i.e.,  as  pun- 
ishing and  rewarding  according  to  the  degree  of  obedience.”®® 
We  may  substitute  for  the  “will  of  God”  here  an  “Eternal 
Tendency  making  for  righteousness”  in  the  world,  or  the  “Moral 
Law”  (as  often  conceived),  and  say  virtually  the  same  thing, 

“ Nur  mit  ein  hischen  andern  Worten.” 

Nietzsche  thinks  that  the  idea  arose  somewhat  as  follows  : — The 
starting-point  is  individuals  conceived  of  as  in  debt  or  guilty 
toward  the  community.  The  community  is  seen,  however,  to  be 
not  of  the  moment  only,  but  an  extension  of  the  past,  so  that 
there  is  debt  to  ancestors  as  well  as  to  the  existing  generation. 
The  debt  thus  grows  larger,  and  sacrifices  are  an  endeavor  to 
repay.  In  time  the  remotest  ancestors  become  heroes,  Gods — 
particularly  does  this  happen  with  the  ancestors  of  a powerful 
and  conquering  race.  Finally,  perhaps  as  the  result  of  a con- 
flict of  races  and  the  ascendancy  of  some  one,  the  idea  arises 
of  a supreme,  perhaps  an  only,  God.  The  exact  nature  of  the 
God-making  process  is  a secondary  matter ; the  important  point 
is  that  at  last  debt  or  guilt  to  a God  arises.  Disobedience  to 
the  community’s  mores  becomes  trespass  against  the  God,  sin; 
if  the  mores  are  reduced  to  what  I have  ventured  to  call  essen- 
tial morality,  this  is  none  the  less,  rather  the  more  the  case. 
And  now  what  is  the  requital  for  guilt  in  the  new  situation, 
what  the  satisfaction  to  the  Invisible  Creditor?  Essentially  the 

Cf.  Genealogy  etc.,  II,  §22;  Werke,  XI,  373,  § 569;  Zarathustra, 
II,  V,  XX ; Will  to  Power,  § 1021;  The  Antichristian,  § 26. 

The  Antichristian,  § 26. 

Cf.  Genealogy  etc.,  II,  §§  19-22.  There  is  an  imperfect  anticipatory 
statement  of  the  general  view  in  Zarathustra,  II,  xx. 


284 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


same  as  to  the  human  creditor.  As  in  lieu  of  the  unpaid  debt, 
the  latter  could  exact  a certain  amount  of  pain  and  humiliation, 
so  with  the  God.  To  him  also  suffering  is  an  equivalent  (Aus- 
gleichung)  for  loss — he  too  is  satisfied  when  he  can  inflict  or 
witness  it ; he  has  pleasure  in  suffering,  i.e.,  cruel  instincts,  just 
as  man  has — only  as  his  debtor  presents  him  the  spectacle  of 
suffering,  is  he  reconciled.  The  religions  of  antiquity,  the  so- 
called  “ethical  religions”  included  (except  atheistic  Buddhism), 
do  not  get  beyond  this  circle  of  conceptions.  For  all  wrong- 
doing pain  must  follow — it  is  the  satisfaction  or  compensation 
par  excellence.  Even  Christianity  is  no  exception — I mean  of 
course  the  historical  movement  going  by  that  name,  not  modern 
rationalizations  or  emasculations.  It  perpetuates  the  Israelit- 
ish  view  that  sin  is  debt  and  must  be  paid,  atoned  for,^^  and 
sometimes  the  guilt  is  so  great  that  it  cannot  be  atoned  for,  i.e., 
suffering  must  continue  without  end.  It  is  true  that  Christianity 
is  a redemptive  religion,  but  this  does  not  mean  that  satisfaction 
is  not  exacted,  but  only  that  it  is  rendered  by  other  than  the 
guilty  parties — one  next  to  God  paid  with  his  sufferings  the  debt 
due  from  men  (or,  shall  we  say?  from  some  men,  since  the  rest 
have  still  to  suffer  and  to  suffer  forever).’’ 

“Sorrow  follows  wrong” — this  Sophoclean  refrain  contains 
the  gist  of  the  idea  of  a moral  order.  It  is  accordingly  an  easy 
.inference  that  wherever  we  find  sorrow  (suffering  or  ill-fortune), 
wrong  must  have  preceded  it.^^'’  So  the  prophets  of  ancient 
Israel  interpreted  the  calamities  which  befell  that  people ; and 
it  was  with  such  a view  that  later  priestly  hands  rewrote  and 
more  or  less  falsified  the  early  history  of  the  nation,  attributing 
successes  to  obedience  and  reverses  to  disobedience  to  the  na- 
tion’s God.^^  Sometimes  the  view  is  carried  to  such  lengths — 
for  example  by  Schopenhauer — that  life  itself,  in  which  so 
much  suffering  is  involved,  is  regarded  in  the  light  of  a punish- 
ment, the  result  of  a fall  (Ahfall)  in  metaphysical  regions;  and 
if  all  earthly  things  pass  away,  it  is  thought  to  show  that  they 
ought  to  pass  away,  eternal  justice  demanding  the  penalty.^ 

” Cf.  Ezekiel  xviii,  4;  Romans  vi,  2.3;  James  i,  L5. 

On  the  moral  interpretation  of  misfortune,  see  Dawn  of  Day,  §§  78, 
86  (cf.  10,  21). 

” The  Antichristian,  §§  25-6. 

Cf.  Zarathustra,  II,  xx. 


A MORAL  ORDER 


285 


We  in  America  and  England  are  familiar  with  a more  compre- 
hensible and  less  ambitious  form  of  the  same  belief  in  Matthew 
Arnold’s  attempt  to  find  chiefiy  moral  causes  for  the  downfall 
of  men  and  nations — to  make  life  and  history  so  far  a parable 
of  a moral  order.  It  is  a form  of  faith  to  which  some  of  us 
have  clung  the  more,  if  we  have  had  to  renounce  much  that  we 
once  held  sacred ; for  with  it  we  could  still  feel  morality  to  be 
central  in  the  scheme  of  things,  and  so  far  have  an  object 
of  quasi-religious  reverence.  Whether,  we  have  said  to  our- 
selves, a God  inflicts  harm  and  suffering  on  man  for  wrong- 
doing or  not,  they  are  inflicted — there  is  a natural  and  necessary 
connection  between  righteousness  and  life,  and  between  un- 
righteousness and  death ; even  if  men  succeed  outwardly  in 
wrongdoing,  their  conscience  does  not  leave  them  at  ease,  and 
sooner  or  later  their  success  is  undone.  But  Nietzsche’s  criti- 
cism follows  us  even  into  this  stronghold.  It  is  true  that  wrong, 
in  the  strict  sense,  i.e.,  breaking  an  agreement,  brings  naturally 
inner  unrest  to  one  doing  it,  and  ordinarily  has  to  be  com- 
pensated for  as  well.^®  But  wrong  in  the  broad  sense  in  which 
it  is  often  used,  wrong  as  injury  and  intent  to  injure  simply, 
does  not  necessarily  have  these  consequences.  If  there  is  no 
agreement,  explicit  or  implicit,  to  the  contrary — and  there  is 
implicit  agreement  between  all  members  of  the  same  group  or 
community — injury  need  cause  no  bad  conscience.  There  was 
no  bad  conscience  (according  to  Nietzsche’s  view^),  when  early 
superior  races  fell  on  wandering  populations  and  deprived  them 
of  their  liberty,  as  described  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  chapter — 
not  even  if  they  did  all  manner  of  violence  to  them.  Even 
within  the  same  society,  if  it  is  a caste  society  and  the  division 
of  classes  is  recognized  as  beneficent  or  at  least  necessary,  the 
ruling  class  may  accept  sacrifices  from  the  classes  below  them 
without  twinges  of  conscience,  and  the  lower  classes  may  not 
feel  wronged  in  having  to  make  them.^^  It  is  an  error  in  psy- 
chology to  think  that  T)6se  men  are  necessarily  wretched  inwardly, 

““  Cf.  Nietzsche’s  personal  confession,  “ Let  one  talk  as  one  will  about 
all  kinds  of  immorality:  but  to  be  able  to  endure  it!  For  example,  I 
could  not  endure  a broken  word,  or  even  a murder:  wasting  away  (Siech- 
thum)  and  ruin  would  sooner  or  later  be  my  lot! — quite  apart  from  a 
knowledge  of  the  misdeed  or  punishment  for  it”  (Werke,  XII,  224,  § 486). 

Cf.  Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 11. 

Cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 258. 


286 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


or  that  the  passionate  are  unhappy.®  There  are  tose  men  who 
are  happy — a species  about  whom  moralists  are  silent.®  Bose 
impulses  become  unpleasant  when  carried  to  excess  or  when 
inhibited  by  other  impulses — they  are  so  far  like  impulses  in 
general,  like  pity,  for  example,  which  may  be  felt  as  miserable 
weakness,  or  like  thinking,  which  when  unrestrained  may  be- 
come painful.^”  More  suffering  comes  from  opinions  about  the 
passions  than  from  the  passions  themselves.^^  Indeed,  why  it  is 
suffering  that  must  needs  follow  an  evil  deed  is  not  clear — why 
not  as  well  another  evil  deed?®  That  the  evildoer’s  work  is 
undone  sooner  or  later  is  equally  a doubtful  proposition — 
indeed  it  is  less  likely  to  happen  later  than  earlier,  since  an 
order  of  things  may  be  established  on  that  basis  and  this  be 
consented  to  all  around.  Nietzsche  sums  the  matter  up  by 
saying,  “That  in  the  consequences  of  actions  reward  and  punish- 
ment are  already  contained — this  thought  of  an  immanent  jus- 
tice is  fundamentally  false”;®  and,  commenting  on  the  Laws 
of  Manu,  he  offers  interesting  suggestions  as  to  the  way  in  which 
the  natural  consequences  of  actions  have  been  turned  into  re- 
wards and  punishments.^  As  for  a moral  order  in  the  more 
general  sense  that  the  good,  kindly,  benevolent  impulses  have 
a natural  sanction,  in  that  they  alone  contribute  to  man’s 
advancement  and  progress,  we  have  already  seen  Nietzsche  con- 
testing such  a premise.  Evil  {bdse),  unfriendly,  destructive 
impulses  are  as  vital  in  the  total  economy  of  the  world  as  those 
called  good.  It  is  as  necessary  to  be  evil  to  things  that  cumber 
the  ground  as  to  be  good  to  those  that  have  the  promise  and 
power  of  life. 


m 

I pass  over  briefly  Nietzsche’s  scattering  remarks  on  obliga- 
tion or  “ought” — there  is  no  special  treatment  of  the  subject 
and  his  view  may  be  anticipated  from  what  has  gone  before. 
“Ought”  is  primarily  a phenomenon  in  contractual  relations — 

Joyful  Science,  § 326. 

Beyond  Good  and.  Evil,  § 39. 

Werke,  XI,  201,  §115. 

Ibid.,  XI,  202,  § 116. 

Ibid.,  XIII,  315,  § 770. 

*’Ibid.,  XIII,  315,  § 770;  cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 563. 

“ Werke,  XIV,  120-1,  §§  254-5. 


OUGHT 


287 


for  in  every  exchange  not  completed  at  once,  the  debtor  binds 
himself  and  is  in  turn  bound;  and  yet  wherever  there  is  a 
relation  of  enforced  subordination,  whether  of  individuals  to 
other  individuals,  of  individuals  to  a group,  or  of  impulses  to 
other  impulses  in  the  same  individual,  something  similar  arises. 
From  the  controlling  side,  it  means,  “so  must  you  do,”  from 
the  controlled,  “so  must  I do.”  At  bottom  it  is  a relation  of 
wills,  one  commanding,  the  other  obeying — for  there  is  no  sense 
in  a command,  where  there  is  not  something  to  obey.^^  This 
holds  of  an  individual’s  inner  life  as  truly  as  of  society:  one 
impulse  gets  on  top,  commands,  the  others  have  to  obey.“  That 
regulation  of  impulses  which  is  implied  in  morality  rests  in 
the  last  resort  on  one  impulse  that  has  the  upper  hand.^^  In 
relation  to  this  dominant  impulse,  we  have  to  let  the  question 
Why?  go.^^  Of  an  ought  over  and  above  human  relations  and 
human  wills,  Nietzsche  knows  nothing.^® “Ought”  is  our 
creation,  though  it  is  a necessary  one,  growing  out  of  the  fact 
that  we  are  at  bottom  wills — and  will  must  either  command  or 
obey.  The  great  man  must  command,  cannot  be  saved  from 
doing  SO;  and  his  imperative  “thou  oughtst”  is  not  derived 
from  the  nature  of  things,  but  seeing  the  higher  he  must  put 
it  through,  compel  obedience  to  it.“  There  is  nothing  wrong 
or  unnatural  in  this — rather  may  it  be  as  natural  for  the 
weaker,  the  unsteadier,  to  obey  as  for  the  stronger  and 
higher  to  command ; it  may  be  positively  easier  for  the 
weaker  to  do  this  after  the  first  recalcitrancy,^^  may  be 
even  a relief  [compare,  I may  say  on  my  own  account,  the 
sentiment  of  Wordsworth’s  “Ode  to  Duty”].®  That  is,  two 
types  of  individuals  may  fit  organically  together  in  a society — 
and  two  kinds  of  impulses  may  fit  organically  together  in  a 
single  soul.®^  There  is  thus  a strictly  natural  order  of  rank  in 
the  world  {Rangordnung) . The  order  of  precedence,  the 

*^Werke,  XIII,  216,  §511.  Even  Kant  said,  “Derm  dieses  Sollen  ist 
eigentUch  ein  W alien”  [Grundlegung  sur  Metaphysik  der  Sitten,  ed.  von 
Kirchman,  p.  78). 

Ibid.,  XI,  221,  § 155;  cf.  199,  § 109- 

Ibid.,  XI,  200,  § 111. 

^-^Ibid.,  XI,  201,  § 114. 

Ibid.,  XIV,  320,  § 155. 

’‘’‘Ibid.,  XIV,  103,  § 227. 

For  all  impulses  want  to  rule  for  the  moment  at  least. 

“ Cf.  IFerfce,  XIII,  105,  § 246;  170,  § 393. 


288 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


classification  of  higher  and  lower,  which  appears  in  a social 
group,  is  typical  of  a phenomenon  that  is  universal  in  nature — 
at  least  in  organic  nature.  “We  may  consider  all  that  has  to 
be  done  to  preserve  the  organism  as  a ‘moral  demand’:  there 
is  a ‘thou  oughtst’  for  the  single  organs  which  comes  to  them 
from  the  commanding  organ.  ’ ’ 


IV 

We  are  accordingly  led  straightway  to  what  Nietzsche  con- 
siders the  very  problematical  notion  of  equality.  He  takes 
it  broadly — perhaps  too  broadly — and  appears  to  have  no 
objection  to  it  in  and  for  itself.  We  may  seek  equality,  he 
says,  either  by  bringing  others  down  to  our  level,  or  by  raising 
ourselves  and  all  up  to  a higher  level.^  He  has,  too,  as  we 
have  already  seen,  a sense  of  the  intimate  unity  of  human  nature 
and  is  instinctively  offended  at  the  thought  of  using  others 
merely  as  means  to  our  own  ends.®®  He  admits  that  it  was  the 
noblest  spirits  who  were  led  astray  by  the  ideas  of  the  French 
Revolution,  in  which  “equality”  played  so  large  a part 
(though  he  makes  an  exception  in  the  case  of  Goethe).®®  And 
yet  in  the  actual  constitution  of  things  there  is  more  inequality 
than  equality — and  not  merely  artificial  inequality  owing  to 
outer  conditions,  but  natural  inequality.  The  mark  of  a good 
man  for  Schopenhauer  was  “that  he  less  than  the  rest  makes 
a difference  between  himself  and  others”;®^  but  if  differences 
exist,  what  boots  it?  Must  the  good  man  be  a little  blind — 
an  idealist,  or  an  artist?  A tendency  of  goodness  to  stupidity 
{Dummheit)  has  been  already  noticed.  It  is  sometimes  said 
that  to  God  all  men  are  equal,  and  Carlyle  spoke  of  Islam  as 
a “perfect  equalizer  of  men”;®*  but  so  from  a high  mountain 
the  tallest  men  are  pygmies  like  the  rest — there  is  no  distin- 
guishing vision  from  so  far  off.^  Nietzsche  does  not  question 
that  it  may  be  expedient  to  treat  men  as  equal  under  certain 
circumstances  or  that  there  are  conditions  in  which  differences 

'‘’'Jhid.,  XIII,  170,  § 392;  cf.  the  tone  of  XII,  358,  § 675. 

Human,  etc.,  § 300. 

" Ihid.,  § 524,  and  see  ante,  pp.  65,  126. 

Twilight  of  the  Idols,  ix,  § 48. 

Werke,  XIV,  85,  § 168,  quoting  from  Schopenhauer’s  Grundlage  der 
Moral,  § 22. 

^’‘Heroes  and  Hero-Worship,  Lect.  II. 


EQUALITY 


289 


between  tbem  may  be  actually  negligible.  He  notes,  for  in- 
stance, that  after  some  hours  of  mountain  climbing  a scamp 
and  a saint  are  two  tolerably  similar  creatures — exhaustion 
being  the  shortest  way  to  equality  and  brotherhood.®®  He  gives 
also  a serious  instance.  When  communities  are  first  organized 
and  all  alike  are  in  need  of  protection  from  the  enemy,  men 
may  be  considered  equal.  Even  long-established  communities 
manifest  equalitarian  tendencies,  whenever  danger  arises,  such 
as  war  or  earthquake  or  flood — differences  of  rank  and  privilege 
being  quite  lost  sight  of  in  face  of  a common  misfortune.  But 
save  in  these  exceptional  circumstances,  native  differences  be- 
tween men,  gradations  of  rank  of  some  sort,  tend  ever  to  appear 
in  old  and  well-established  communities;  and  this  also  happens 
whenever  social  order  is  broken  down  and  anarchy  sets  in  (cf. 
what  happened  at  Corcyra,  according  to  the  account  of  Thucyd- 
ides).®® The  differences  really  exist  all  the  time,  however  they 
may  fail  to  show  themselves,  and  Nietzsche  thinks  it  not 
truthful  or  just  not  to  recognize  them,  and  estimate  men  ac- 
cordingly. As  animal  life  ranks  higher  than  plant  life,  and 
human  life  ranks  above  that  of  the  animal,  so  there  is  an 
ascending  scale  of  potencies  in  human  life  itself — all  men  are 
not  on  the  same  level:  some  are  higher,  others  lower.®^  We  in 
our  day  are  apt  to  collocate  equal  with  just — “just  and  equal,” 
we  are  accustomed  to  say.  But  if  justice  means  giving  to  each 
his  own  {suum  cuique),  and  if  one  person  is  on  one  level  of  life 
and  another  on  another,  then  to  treat  them  as  if  they  were  on 
the  same  level  is  not  justice,  but  injustice.  “Equality  to 
those  who  are  equal,  inequality  to  those  who  are  unequal” — this 
were  the  true  teaching  of  justice.®®  “Wrong  lies  never  in 
unequal  rights,  it  lies  in  the  claim  to  ‘equal  rights.’  ”®®  “The 
doctrine  of  equality!  . . . But  there  is  no  more  poisonous 
poison;  for  it  appears  to  be  preached  by  justice  itself,  while  it 
is  the  end  of  justice.”®^  ^ 

The  present-day  sentiment  in  favor  of  equality  becomes 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 263. 

§31. 

Cf.  Zarathustra,  II,  vii. 

Twilight  of  the  Idols,  ix,  § 48. 

The  Antichristian,  § 57 ; cf.  Zarathustra,  II,  xvi. 

Twilight  of  the  Idols,  ix,  § 48. 


290 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


then  a curiosity  to  Nietzsche,  and  he  seeks  to  account  for  it. 
He  does  so  in  this  way — really  two  ways,  which  on  the  surface 
do  not  harmonize.  First,  he  views  it  as  an  accompaniment  of 
the  dominating  place  which  the  mass  have  won  in  modern 
societies.®^  The  instinct  of  the  mass  is  to  say  (and  there  is 
something  of  the  spirit  of  revenge  in  it),®®  “there  are  none 
better  than  we,  all  are  equal,  no  one  is  to  have  rights  and  privi- 
leges above  the  rest.”  In  other  words,  it  is  a doctrine  for  a 
purpose,  a kind  of  tool  in  a class-war — the  end  being  to  bring 
all  men  into  one  class.  Second,  the  doctrine  is  the  reflection 
of  a certain  matter-of-fact  resemblance — or  process  causing 
resemblance — which  is  accomplishing  itself  in  the  modern  world. 
We  latter-day  beings  are  a mixture,  purity  of  blood  and  race 
is  disappearing — we  are  actually  becoming  alike:  the  old  dif- 
ferences of  high  and  low  cut  small  flgure.  Gaps  between  man 
and  man,  between  class  and  class,  variety  of  types,  a will  to 
be  oneself,  to  mark  oneself  off,  the  pathos  of  distance, — these 
are  marks  of  every  strong  time  ,•  ®^  but  we  are  fallen  on  other 
days — we  want  no  gaps,  we  are  very  sociable,  it  is  sheep  like 
sheep,  and  we  hardly  want  a shepherd,  ni  dieii  ni  maUre,  as  our 
advance-guard,  the  socialists,  sometimes  say.®®® 

Some  argue  that  while  there  may  not  be,  and  perhaps  should 
not  be,  outer  equality,  there  is  an  inner  equality,  that  so^lls  are 
equal;  but  Nietzsche  questions  it.  Souls  are  as  different  as 
bodies;  what  strong  ones  endure  and  profit  by  may  undo 
average  natures — what  nourishes  and  refreshes  the  higher  kind 
of  man  may  be  to  others  poison.  Dangerous  books,  for  instance, 
that  break  in  pieces  and  desolate  lower  souls  may  act  like 
herald-calls  to  others  and  elicit  their  bravest.®®  His  own  books 
are  not  for  all — he  himself  is  not  good  for  all:  his  problems 
address  themselves  in  the  nature  of  the  case  selectively  to  a 
few  ears.'^®’^  He  questions  indeed  whether  really  great  and 
beautiful  things  can  be  common  property:  pulchrum  est  pau- 
corum  hominumJ^  In  the  same  way  he  sees  basis  for  the  dis- 

'>’■  Werhe,  XIV,  68,  § 134. 

Cf.  Zarathustra,  II,  vii. 

Twilight  of  the  Idols,  ix,  § 37. 

Werke,  XIV,  68,  § 134;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 202. 

Will  to  Power,  §§  901,  904;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §30. 

Cf.  Zarathustra,  IX,  xvii,  §1;  Genealogy  etc.,  I,  §5. 

Twilight  of  the  Idols,  viii,  § 5. 


EQUALITY 


291 


tinctions  of  esoteric  and  exoteric  in  a doctrine  or  a religion, 
corresponding  to  different  grades  of  intelligence  in  its  fol- 
lowers/^ Even  the  same  words  people  understand  differently 
— they  have  different  feelings,  scents,  wishes,  in  connection  with 
them:  “what  group  of  sensations  and  ideas  are  in  the  fore- 
ground of  a soul  and  are  quickest  aroused,  is  the  ultimately 
decisive  thing  about  its  rank.”'^^  Not  all  have  a right  to  the 
same  judgments;  Nietzsche  will  not  admit  the  right  of  others 
to  criticise  Wagner  as  he  does/^  He  hates  his  pure  “I  will” 
from  coarse  mouths/^  Independence  is  for  the  fewest — a privi- 
lege of  the  strong/®  One  must  have  the  right  even  to  do  one’s 
own  thinking,  and  not  all  have  it,  for  right  is  conditioned  on 
power.'^  Men  are  indeed  so  different  that  there  cannot  be  an 
universal  law  for  them;  it  is  selfishness  to  say  that  what  I 
should  do  under  given  circumstances  is  imperative  on  all  others 
— a blind  kind  of  selfishness  too,  since  it  shows  that  I have  not 
yet  discovered  myself  and  created  my  own  ideal,  something 
that  can  never  be  that  of  another,  not  to  say  of  all/®  “And 
how  indeed  could  there  be  a ‘common  good’!  The  expression 
contradicts  itself:  that  which  can  be  common  has  ever  only 
small  value.  In  the  end  it  must  be  as  it  is  and  ever  has  been : 
great  things  remain  for  those  who  are  great,  abysses  for  the 
deep,  delicate  things  and  tremulous  things  for  the  fine,  and,  to 
sum  up  briefly,  everything  rare  for  the  rare.”^®  The  way,  the 
ideal,  there  is  not ; that  such  a thing  may  be,  all  must  be  alike, 
on  the  same  level.®® 

Nietzsche  goes  so  far  as  to  admit  that,  because  of  radical 
inequality,  of  ascending  grades  of  life,  sacrifice  is  necessary. 
Our  natural  instincts  not  only  of  sympathy,  but  of  fair  play, 
lead  us  to  regard  all  forms  of  life,  even  the  lowest,  as  ends  in 
themselves  and  to  wish  for  each  a full  and  perfect  development. 
But  these  instincts  have  only  a limited  scope  in  a world  con- 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 30. 

Werke,  XIV,  411,  § 289. 

” Ibid.,  XIV,  378-9,  § 260. 

” Ibid.,  XIV,  270,  § 42. 

''^Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §29. 

Zarathustra,  I,  xvii. 

Joyful  Science,  § 335. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 43. 

Cf.  Zarathustra,  III,  xi,  §2;  Will  to  Power,  § 349. 


292 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


stituted  like  ours,  and  if  we  insist  on  following  them  absolutely 
Ave  in  effect  posit  another  order  of  things  than  this  we  know — 
something  which  Schopenhauer  did,  at  the  same  time  turning 
his  back  on  this  world  and  feeling  that  the  height  of  ethics  was 
in  renouncing  it.  For  here,  save  within  narrow  limits,  life  lives 
off  life — as  the  plant  off  the  inorganic  world,  so  the  animal  off 
the  plant,  and  higher  animal  off  the  lower  animal  (or  the 
plant).  There  is  no  way  of  avoiding  this — the  law  of  sacrifice 
is  ingrained  into  the  constitution  of  things.  The  necessity  ex- 
tends even  to  the  relations  of  men  with  one  another.  That  some 
may  develope  to  their  full  stature,  others  must  be  content  with 
less  than  theirs.  At  the  basis  of  ancient  culture,  as  already 
noted,  were  slaves,  and  slaves  equally  exist  today,  the  only 
question  being  whether  there  is  a culture  compensating  for  the 
enormous  sacrifices  which  they — our  working,  business,  profes- 
sional classes — make.  The  law  of  sacrifice  may  be  freely  ac- 
cepted, but  it  cannot  be  changed;  Nietzsche  thinks  that  it  has 
been  accepted  in  the  past  and  might  conceivably  be  again.  And 
perhaps  (I  may  add  on  my  own  account),  if  our  working  and 
business  and  professional  classes  could  see  above  and  beyond 
them,  and  as  a result  of  the  freedom  they  make  possible,  an 
^sehylus,  a Sophocles,  a Phidias,  an  Aristotle,  in  short  a drama, 
a sculpture,  an  architecture,  a noble  civic  and  intellectual  life, 
like  that  of  the  ancient  Greeks,  they  might  be  less  unwilling 
to  bring  their  sacrifice  than  they  are — I say  “perhaps”  and 
“might,”  because  the  indications  are  at  present  that  they  think 
more  of  themselves  than  of  anything  else,  and  only  care  to 
“get  out  of  life”  (as  the  saying  is)  all  that  they  possibly  can. 


CHAPTER  XXII 


CRITICISM  OF  MORALITY  (Cont.).  • THE  “ALTRUISTIC” 

SENTIMENTS ' 

A SENSE  of  the  gradations  of  life  noted  in  the  last  chapter  under- 
lies also  the  discussion  of  the  “ altruistic  ” “ sentiments.  These 
sentiments  may  be  said  to  make  up  the  finer,  more  inward,  more 
spontaneous  part  of  morality,  as  contrasted  with  conceptions 
such  as  rights,  duties,  justice,  obligation.’^ 

I 

However  inconsistently  with  views  expressed  in  other 
connections,  Nietzsche  regards  the  roots  of  altruism  as  lying 
very  deep  in  man — he  even  says  in  one  place  that  more  than 
any  other  animal,  man  is  originally  “altruistic.”^  He  seems 
to  look  on  two  factors  as  co-operating  to  produce  the 
result.  On  the  one  hand,  social  existence  requires  it,  and,  on 
the  other,  individuals  themselves  find  compensation  for  a sense 
of  their  unimportance  in  serving  others — mothers  their  chil- 
dren, slaves  their  masters,  the  soldier  his  commander,  even  the 
prince  his  people,  and  in  general.^  Pleasure  in  the  group  to 
which  one  belongs  is  really  older  than  pleasure  in  oneself,  and 
the  sly,  loveless  ego  that  only  seeks  its  own  advantage  in  the 
advantage  of  others,  is  not  the  origin  of  the  group  but  its  de- 
struction.^ Altruistic  sentiment,  however,  implies  egoism  some- 
where or  to  some  extent — not  as  its  contrary,  but  as  its  com- 
plement and  condition.  If  there  is  service  there  must  be  those 
willing  to  be  served — individuals,  or  the  group  (as  such)  ; altru- 
istic sentiment  cannot  be  universal  and  all-controlling.  In  fact, 
quite  apart  from  individuals  the  group  or  community  is  almost 

'The  substance  of  this  chapter  appeared  in  The  Hibbert  Journal, 
October,  1914. 

“ Will  to  Poicer,  § 771. 

^Ibid.,  §§  785,  964;  Werke,  XII,  104-5,  § 209;  XIII,  178,  § 406.  Cf. 
“ Schopenhauer  as  Educator,”  sect.  6,  as  to  the  way  in  which  young  men 
may  compensate  for  their  felt  imperfection. 

* Zarathustra,  I,  xv. 


293 


294 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


always  egoistic,  freely  allowing  its  members  to  serve  it,  calling 
on  them  to  do  so,  and  even  allowing  them  on  occasion  to  injure 
themselves  or  be  killed  in  its  behalf.  Many  of  the  great  “vir- 
tues” are  simply  practices  or  qualities  that  serve  this  naive 
egoism  of  the  community.  If  the  community  should  itself  be- 
come altruistic,  it  might  sacrifice  for  individuls  rather  than 
allow  them  to  sacrifice  for  it.  That  is,  altruism  taken  as  a 
universal  maxim,  conducts  to  an  impasse.  Only  as  a limit  is 
set  to  it,  is  it  really  possible.®  Perhaps  some  of  my  readers  have 
found  how  difficult  it  is  to  deal  with  thoroughly  altruistic 
people : they  will  scarcely  allow  us  to  do  anything  for  them — 
they  want  to  be  ever  giving,  and  are  not  willing  to  receive.  In 
a way  they  are  the  most  embarrassing  people  in  the  world — 
they  frustrate  our  own  virtue ! But  though,  taken  universally, 
altruism  is  self-contradictory,  it  makes  an  excellent,  rough, 
practical  rule  for  great  masses  of  people.  The  community’s 
instinct  of  self-preservation  is  behind  the  sanction  given  to  it; 
and  most  actually  do  best  when  they  serve  others  or  the 
community,  rather  than  themselves — the  “self,”  in  their  case, 
not  being  massive  or  important  enough  to  justify  special 
attention ; where  individual  distinctions  do  not  stand  out, 
many,  not  to  say  all,  are  more  important  than  one.® 

But  there  is  another  way  in  which  egoism  is  indispensable — 
egoism  now  of  an  active  sort.  The  view  appears  in  sayings 
like  these ; — Love  your  neighbor  as  yourselves,  but  first  be  such 
as  love  themselves — loving  with  a great  love  and  a great  con- 
tempt^ (looking  down  on  ourselves  being  a condition  of  our 
rising) . Grant  that  benevolence  and  beneficence  make  the  good 
man,  one  must  first  be  benevolent  and  beneficent  to  himself — 
else  one  is  not  a good  man.®  Making  oneself  into  a whole  person 
goes  further  in  the  direction  of  the  general  advantage  than 
compassion  towards  others.®  Hence  there  may  be  a “quite  ideal 
selfishness.  ” It  involves  an  art — of  all  arts  the  finest  and  the 
one  requiring  most  patience.  In  practising  it  we  learn  to  endure 

“ The  inherent  contradictions  in  altruism  as  a principle  were  perhaps 
never  better  stated  than  in  Joyful  Science,  § 21. 

® Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 269. 

’ Zarathustra,  III,  v,  § 3. 

® Dawn  of  Day,  § 516. 

^ Human,  etc.,  § 95. 

Daion  of  Day,  § 552. 


THE  “ ALTRUISTIC  ” SENTIMENTS 


295 


being  by  ourselves  and  do  not  need  to  be  ever  roaming  about.^^ 
Even  too  much  reading  is  to  be  guarded  against,  because  then 
we  learn  to  think  only  by  reacting,  not  spontaneously.^^  The 
broad  objection  to  a sweeping  unegoistic  morality  is  that  it  easily 
leads  to  sins  of  omission,  and  just  because  it  has  the  guise  of 
human  friendliness,  it  seduces  the  higher,  rarer  type  of  man 
the  most.^^  “ So  strong  at  this  point  is  Nietzsche ’s  feeling  that 
he  is  led  to  the  view  that  the  absolute  supremacy  of  altruistic 
conceptions  would  be  an  indication  of  degeneration — for  if  all 
should  find  the  significance  of  their  lives  in  serving  others,  it 
would  show  that  none  found  value  in  themselves,  did  not  know 
how  to  protect  and  preserve  themselves,  had  no  real  self  (none 
worth  while),  and  humanity  would  be  so  far  on  the  downward 
grade.^^  Deficiency  in  personality  revenges  itself  everywhere. 
A weakened,  thin,  obliterated,  self-denying  person  is  useful  for 
no  good  thing — “selfiessness”  of  this  type  has  no  value  for 
either  heaven  or  earth.^® 

The  egoism  thus  so  strongly  preached  is,  however,  regarded 
for  the  most  part  under  an  ultimately  altruistic  perspective: 
it  is  for  the  good  of  others,  however  dimly  or  imper- 
sonally they  may  be  conceived  or  far  off  they  may  be  put. 
And  yet  Nietzsche  raises  a rather  daring  question:  Why  is 
the  man  better  who  is  useful  to  others  than  one  who  is  useful 
to  himself?  And  the  answer  comes,  that  this  is  true  when 
others  are  of  more  value,  higher  than  oneself.  But  suppose  that 
the  contrary  is  true — that  others  are  of  less  value:  in  such  a 
situation,  he  who  serves  himself  may  be  better,  even  if  he  does 
so  at  the  expense  of  others.^®  The  reasoning  sounds  cold- 
blooded, yet  can  hardly  be  gainsaid — and  the  underlying  point 
of  view  conducts  to  important  distinctions.  The  character  of 
selfishness  (if  we  use  the  opprobrious  word,  and  Nietzsche,  in 
a half-defiant  way,  sometimes  does)  much  depends  upon  who 
it  is  that  is  selfish.  When  he  speaks  of  the  “wild  waters  and 
storm-floods  of  selfishness”  in  Europe  in  the  sixteenth  century, 
he  means  ordinary,  vulgar  selfishness — the  selfishness  of  princes 
and  peoples  who  were  grabbing,  among  other  things,  for  the 

Zarathustra,  III,  xi,  § 2.  Twilight  of  the  Idols,  ix,  § 35. 

“ Ecce  Homo,  II,  § 8.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 345. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §221.  ” Werke,  XIV,  63-4,  § 123. 


296 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


possessions  of  the  Catholic  Church  — and  this  he  despises  as 
much  as  any  one.  Once  he  formally  distinguishes  two  kinds 
of  egoism : a sacred  one  that  forces  us  to  serve  what  is  highest 
in  us ; another,  the  egoism  of  the  cat,  that  wants  only  its  life,^® 
Both  are  preservative — the  only  question  is,  of  what?  The 
higher  kind  of  selfishness  is  so  contrasted  with  the  lower  that 
he  even  refuses  to  call  it  by  this  name:  “heroism  is  no  selfish- 
ness {Eigennutz) , for  one  perishes  of  it”^® — this,  though  he  is 
perfectly  aware  and  expressly  says  that  the  higher  virtue,  so 
far  from  being  selfless,  is  that  into  which  one’s  very  self  goes.®® 
The  distinction  between  the  two  kinds  of  selfishness  and  the 
two  kinds  of  men  is  not  sentimental  or  arbitrary.  It  turns 
on  whether  the  selfishness  represents  the  advancing  or  the 
retrogressive  line  of  life.  To  quote:  “Selfishness  is  worth  as 
much  as  the  man  is  worth  physiologically  who  has  it;  it  can 
have  a very  high  worth,  it  can  have  no  worth  at  all  and  be 
despicable.”®^  Some  only  want  to  receive  and  gather  in — the 
weak,  needy,  sickly  in  body  and  mind ; when  such  people  say 
“all  for  myself,”  they  are  a horror  {Grauen)  to  Nietzsche.  But 
there  are  others  who  get  and  accumulate  only  to  give  out  again 
in  love:  their  selfishness,  even  if  it  is  insatiable  in  gathering  to 
itself,  is  sound  and  holy.®® 

n 

And  yet  what  is  love?  Somewhat  daringly  and  bluntly 
Nietzsche  puts  [finds]  at  the  bottom  of  it  a desire  to  possess. 
It  is  not  fundamentally  different  from,  is  a kind  of  spiritual 
form  of,  the  feeling  for  property  or  for  what  we  want  to  make 
such.®®  Love  between  the  sexes,  marriage,  is  palpably  that : each 
wishes  to  possess  the  other,  to  possess  indeed  exclusively — here 
is  the  basis  of  jealousy.  In  very  love  one  may  kill,  as  Don 
Jose  does  Carmen;  if  he  had  not  loved  her,  she  might  have 
” Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 212. 

Letter  to  Lou  SalomS,  quoted  by  D.  Hal^vy,  Vie  de  Fr4dSric  Nietz- 
sche, p.  25.  Cf.  the  reference  to  “ cats  and  wolves,”  Zarathustra,  I,  xxii, 
§2. 

Werlce,  XIV,  216,  § 245. 

Zarathustra,  II,  v. 

Twilight  of  the  Idols,  ix,  § 33. 

**  Zarathustra,  I,  xxii.  The  self-love  of  the  sickly  and  diseased 
(Bilchtigen)  “stinkt”  {ibid..  Ill,  xi,  §2). 

Werke,  XII,  104,  § 208. 


THE  “ALTRUISTIC”  SENTIMENTS  297 

gone  to  other  men.^^  On  other  levels,  too,  love  shows  its  root 
character — though  in  subtler  form.  What  is  love  of  truth  but 
desire  to  get  it,  to  make  it  our  own,  to  be  so  far  enriched — and 
what  does  love  of  new  truth  often  mean  but  that,  acquainted 
with  and  perhaps  a little  tired  of  what  we  have,  we  reach  out 
our  insatiable  hands  for  more?  Is  the  love  of  our  neighbors 
quite  destitute  of  the  desire  to  have  something  of  our  own  in 
them?  And  when  with  sympathetic  heart  we  help  and  tend 
those  who  are  suffering  or  ill,  is  there  not  some  secret  pleasure 
in  thus  extending  our  power  over  them,  in  feeling  that  for  the 
moment  they  are  ours?  We  may  not  confess  it  to  ourselves — 
but  suppose  that  we  are  told  that  we  are  unnecessary,  is  it  not 
as  if  something  were  taken  from  us  ? The  desire  for  possession 
may  have  very  subtle  shades.^®  Does  this,  then,  mean  that  there 
cannot  be  an  unselfish  desire  to  give  and  bestow?  Not  at  all, 
but  (says  Nietzsche  in  effect)  let  us  analyze  what  is  meant  by 
such  a desire.  Here,  for  instance,  is  a philosopher  who  wants 
to  give  his  ideas  to  the  world.  In  the  first  place,  let  us  not  be 
too  ready  to  credit  him  with  unselfishness.  Very  possibly  he 
simply  wants  to  impress  himself  upon  the  world,  to  put  his 
mark  on  it,  and  so  far  make  it  his  world — philosophers  gen- 
erally, especially  the  great  ones,  want  to  rule.^®  And  yet  we 
can  imagine  that  pure  blessing  may  be  the  aim — and  if 
philosophers  are  not  frequent  instances,  there  are  plenty  of 
instances  from  other  walks  in  life,  parents,  for  example,  or 
wherever  the  essentially  parental  impulse  manifests  itself. But 
what  is  the  real  psychology  of  this  unselfishness?  Nietzsche 
can  only  answer:  the  soul  is  full,  over-full,  and  has  to  give. 
For  love  may  be  of  two  kinds:  here  a soul  is  empty  and  wants 
to  be  full ; there  a soul  is  already  overflowing  and  wants  to 
pour  itself  out.  Both  seek  an  object  to  satisfy  their  needs,  and 
really  the  full  soul  is  as  needy  and  is  as  much  prompted  by  the 
sense  of  need  as  the  empty  one — neither  is,  strictly  speaking, 
unegoistic.^  Some  of  the  supreme  passages  in  Nietzsche  are 

“ The  Case  of  Wagner,”  § 2.  There  is  the  same  implication  in 
Jahweh’s  frankly  calling  himself  a “jealous  God.” 

Joyful  Science,  § 14. 

^®Cf.  Werke,  XIII,  177,  § 406;  Will  to  Power,  § 874. 

” Werke,  XII,  253,  § 228. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 145. 


298 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


those  in  which  he  pictures  the  great  soul  giving.  When  Zara- 
thustra  is  expostulated  with  for  leaving  his  high  solitudes  to 
come  down  among  men,  his  answer  is,  “I  love  men — I bring 
to  them  a gift.  ’ ’ ® When  the  mountain  comes  down  to  the 
valley  and  the  winds  from  the  heights  descend  to  the  levels 
below,  what  is  the  right  name  for  such  a longing?  Zarathustra 
asks,  and  “bestowing  virtue”  is  the  only  answer  he  can  give.^® 
It  is  a love  that  does  not  wait  to  be  thanked,  but  thanks  any 
one  who  will  receive  it — a love  that  suffers  if  it  cannot  pour 
itself  out.®^  Perhaps  when  we  reach  this  love,  if  only  in  imagina- 
tion, it  does  not  matter  much  what  we  call  it,  egoistic,  unegoistic, 
selfish,  unselfish — words,  categories,  being  but 

“ Sound  and  smoke, 

Hiding  heaven’s  glow.” 

Nietzsche  criticises  the  “golden  rule.”  He  considers  it  first 
as  a dictate  of  prudence,  showing  that  one’s  ends  are  not  neces- 
sarily reached  in  the  manner  prescribed  by  the  rule,  and  remark- 
ing that  one’s  best  actions  are  marked  by  a disregard  of  pru- 
dence anyway;  but  secondly  and  principally  in  so  far  as  the 
notion  of  equality  lies  behind  it.  So  far  as  men  are  equal,  it 
is  indeed  a reasonable  requirement,  and  the  flock  instinct,  dis- 
regarding differences  between  the  members  of  the  flock,  is 
behind  it.®^  But  so  far  as  men  are  unlike,  it  is  without  applica- 
tion. What  a great  man  does,  that  others  cannot  do  to  him. 
“What  thou  doest,  no  one  can  do  to  thee  in  return.”  Moreover, 
“What  I do  not  wish  that  you  should  do  to  me,  why  may  I 
not  be  allowed  to  do  it  to  you  ? And,  indeed,  what  I must  do  to 
you,  just  that  you  could  not  do  to  me.”®®  The  thought  is  that, 
so  far  as  men  are  different,  their  powers  and  privileges  and 
duties  are  different. 

That,  however,  Nietzsche  was  inspired  by  no  lack  of  con- 
sideration and  tenderness  for  others  appears  in  what  he  says 
of  the  treatment  of  injuries.  It  is  paradoxical  in  form,  and 
the  reader  is  liable  to  be  shocked  by  it  at  first.  Zarathustra  is 

Zarathustra,  prologue,  § 2. 

Ihid.,  Ill,  X,  § 2. 

“ Dionysua  Dithyrambs”  (“Of  the  Poverty  of  the  Richest”). 

Will  to  Power,  § 925. 

^^Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  §4;  Werke,  XIV,  303,  §120. 


THE  “ALTRUISTIC”  SENTIMENTS 


299 


the  speaker,  and  he  says  (in  substance),  “If  you  have  an  enemy, 
do  not  return  his  evil  with  good — that  will  humiliate  him;  if 
he  curses  you,  curse  a little  back ; if  he  does  you  a great  wrong, 
do  him  a few  small  ones — dreadful  to  behold  is  one  under  the 
weight  of  wrong  that  he  has  done  alone ; more  humane  is  a little 
revenge  than  absolutely  no  revenge.”^  Of  course,  this  has  to 
be  taken  in  the  spirit  rather  than  the  letter  (like  the  paradoxes 
of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount),  but  we  do  not  have  to  attend 
long  to  see  that  an  extreme  (if  you  will,  fantastical)  tenderness 
breathes  through  it.  A certain  great  apostle  urged  returning 
the  evil  of  an  enemy  with  good,  “for  in  so  doing  thou  shalt 
heap  coals  of  fire  on  his  head.”  One  can  hardly  say  that  ten- 
derness for  the  wrongdoer  inspires  that;  the  desire  is  rather  to 
cover  with  shame — the  subtlest  spirit  of  revenge  breathes 
through  it.  Which  is  the  truer,  or  even  more  Christian  spirit, 
I leave  the  reader  to  judge.  Nietzsche  wanted  to  spare  shame 
and  to  purge  the  world  of  the  spirit  of  revenge.  As  he  put  it,, 
he  desired  a justice  that  should  be  “love  with  seeing  eyes,” 
and  that  would  absolve  all,  save  him  who  judges.  At  the  same 
time  he  knew  that  this  was  not  a height  for  every  one,  but  only 
for  those  rich  in  inner  wealth,  the  overfiowing.^ 

The  analysis  of  sacrifice  resembles  that  of  “love”:  on  the 
one  hand  there  is  a psychological  Aufkldrung ; on  the  other 
an  assertion  of  the  thing  itself,  so  strong  that  to  many  it  may 
seem  extreme.  It  is  not  unselfish,  he  declares,  when  I 
prefer  to  think  about  causality  rather  than  about  the  lawsuit 
with  my  publisher;  my  advantage  and  my  enjoyment  lie  on 
the  side  of  knowledge;  my  tension,  unrest,  passion,  have  beeu 
longest  active  just  there.^®  Hence  he  finds  something  hypo- 
critical in  the  current  language  about  sacrifice.  Naturally,  he 
says,  in  order  to  accomplish  what  lies  near  his  heart,  he  throws 
much  away — much  that  also  lies  near  his  heart ; but  the  throw- 
ing away  is  only  consequence,  incidental  result — the  bottom 
fact  is  that  something  else  lies  nearest  his  heart.^^  And  this 
is  why  a proposal  to  reward  sacrifice  is  inept.  Nietzsche  eveu 

” Zarathiistra,  I,  xix. 

Ibid.,  I,  xix. 

Werke,  XIV,  95,  § 197. 

Ibid.,  94,  §196;  cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 220;  Twilight  etc., 
ix,  § 44;  Will  to  Power,  §§  372,  930. 


300 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


demurs  at  speaking  of  virtue  as  its  own  reward — lie  dislikes 
the  latter  word  altogether.  When,  Zarathustra  asks,  was  it  ever 
heard  that  a mother  would  he  repaid  for  her  love?  and  a man 
should  love  his  virtue  as  his  child.^^ 

“Who  will  be  paid? 

The  saleable.”  ““ 

“You  are  too  pure  for  the  soil  of  the  words  revenge,  punish- 
ment, reward,  requital. And  yet  sacrifice  (for  he  does  not 
eschew  the  word)  may  go  far.  Virtue,  in  the  great  sense,  is  an 
arrow  of  yearning  and  a willingness  to  disappear.^^  To  be  free 
in  any  great  way  is  to  be  indifferent  to  hardship,  severity, 
privation,  even  to  life ; to  be  ready  to  sacrifice  men  for  a cause, 
oneself  not  excepted.*^  Nietzsche’s  mind  goes  back  to  ancient 
customs,  and  he  says,  “whoever  is  the  first-born,  he  is  ever 
sacrificed.  Now  we  are  the  first-born.  But  so  wills  it  our  kind 
and  species;  and  I love  those  who  will  not  hold  themselves 
back.”® 

With  perspectives  like  these  Nietzsche  criticises  “love  of 
neighbors.”  Higher  than  love  to  those  near  us  is  love  to  those 
far  away.  Yes,  higher  than  love  to  men  is  love  to  things 
(Sachen)  and  ghosts  {Gespenster) . “This  ghost  that  follows 
thee,  my  brother,  is  more  beautiful  than  thou ; why  givest  thou 
not  to  it  thy  flesh  and  thy  bones?  But  thou  art  afraid  and 
fleest  to  thy  neighbor.  . . . Let  the  future  and  what  is  furthest 
off  be  the  motive  of  thy  to-day.  ’ ’ “ More  prosaically  he  puts 
his  idea  and  demand  thus:  “to  bring  beings  to  existence  who 
shall  stand  elevated  above  the  whole  species  ‘man’;  and  to 
sacrifice  ourselves  and  our  neighbors  to  this  end.”®  The  mo- 
tive is  still  love,  but  love  with  distant  instead  of  near  per- 
spectives. He  formulates  the  “new  problem”  in  this  way: 
whether  a part  of  mankind  might  not  by  training  be  developed 

Zarathustra,  II,  v. 

” “ DioJiysus  Dithyrambs  ” (“  Glory  and  Eternity  ”) . 

Zarathustra,  II,  v. 

“ I hid.,  prologue,  § 4. 

Twilight  etc.,  ix,  § 38. 

“ Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  § 6. 

■“  Ihid.,  I,  xvi. 

Werke,  XIV,  262,  § 4. 


THE  “ ALTRUISTIC  ” SENTIMENTS 


301 


into  a higher  race  at  the  expense  of  the  rest  “ Sacrifice  would 
thus  become  part  of  a deliberate  program.  Undoubtedly  to 
most  the  thought  is  repulsive.  We  may  sacrifice  ourselves,  but 
how  can  we  exact  sacrifice  from  others  ? How  can  we  willingly 
contemplate  men  suffering,  living  stunted  lives,  or  dying  pre- 
maturely— all  for  an  end  beyond  themselves?  But  suppose 
they  consented  to  the  sacrifice.  Suppose  that  with  some  dim 
sense  of  a greatness  to  come  they  were  willing  to  be  used  up, 
and  to  disappear  when  they  could  no  longer  serve  ? That  were 
a possibility  not  ordinarily  reckoned  with.  Indeed,  our  pre- 
vailing methods  of  thought  today  tend  to  keep  it  out  of  mind. 
We  want  to  alleviate  men’s  lot.  Our  altars  are  to  pity.  The 
idea  is  abroad  that  no  one  should  suffer  or  be  sacrificed.  All 
have  rights  to  what  pleasure  and  enjoyment  can  be  got  out  of 
life,  we  say — and  they,  the  great  mass,  are  beginning  to  say 
so  too.  Unconsciously  we  play  into  their  latent  instincts  of 
self-assertion,  their  egoism — not  now  the  egoism  that  gives,  but 
the  egoism  that  takes  and  that  takes  all  it  can  get. 
Where  do  we  hear  nowadays  that  men  might  willingly 
deny  themselves  or  even  disappear  for  a glory  possible  to 
mankind  ? There  may  be  such  voices,  but  I do  not  hear 
them.  The  result  is  that  all  classes,  “high”  and  “low”  (to 
use  the  conventional  terms),  are  pervaded  by  the  same  greed 
for  near  and  personal  goods.  But  Nietzsche  credits  better 
things  of  men,  of  the  “low”  as  well  as  the  “high,”  even  of 
those  who  are  no  longer  of  any  use  in  life — all  might  be  guided 
by  the  thought  of  a great  end  beyond  them,  willingly  enduring 
hardship  and  even  consenting  to  end  their  lives  when  it  is  better 
not  to  live.^^ 


in 

And  now  I come  to  that  part  of  my  subject  about  which 
perhaps  more  nonsense  has  been  uttered  than  about  any  other 
aspect  of  this  debatable  thinker — his  view  of  pity.  The  current 
idea  is  that  Nietzsche  was  a sort  of  monster.  “Close  the  hos- 
pitals, let  the  weak  perish  and  tend  the  strong” — this  is  sup- 

XII,  121,  § 237. 

" Daicw  of  Day,  §146;  Twilight  etc.,  ix,  §36;  cf.  Zarathustra,  I, 
xxi;  The  Wanderer  etc.,  §185;  Human,  etc.,  §§  80,  88;  Joyful  Science, 
§ 131. 


302 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


posed  to  be  his  counsel.^®  It  is  a doctrine  inciting  “the  overman 
ruthlessly  to  trample  under  foot  the  servile  herd  of  the  weak, 
degenerate,  and  poor  in  spirit,”  according  to  the  E^icyclopoedia 
BritannicaP  The  ironical  remark  is  made  that  in  his  last  days 
Nietzsche  “had  to  be  cared  for  by  Christian  charity — Christian 
charity,  which  in  health  had  been  the  object  of  his  bitterest 
attack.”*^  The  late  Professor  William  Wallace  was  one  of  the 
few  English-speaking  writers  of  distinction  to  attend  carefully 
enough  to  Nietzsche’s  thought  to  get  his  real  meaning.^® 

The  German  word  is  “Mitleid.”  “ Mitgefiihl,”  fellow- 
feeling  in  general,  is  one  of  Nietzsche’s  “four  virtues.”®^  He 
also  uses  “ SympatMe,”  where  we  should  say  “sympathy”  (in 
the  broad  sense).®®  I remember  no  special  criticism  of  fellow- 
feeling  or  sympathy.®  It  is  pity  that  he  dissects  and  estimates. 
Pity  is,  even  more  distinctly  in  the  German  word  than  in  ours, 
suffering — suffering  with,  really  suffering  with  suffering.  It  is, 
of  course,  a species  of  fellow-feeling  or  sympathy,  but  of  this 
peculiar  character. 

There  was  a special  occasion  for  Nietzsche’s  analysis  of 
pity — an  occasion  that  we  in  America  and  England  do  not  easily 
appreciate.  Perhaps  in  general  we  are  less  reflective  peoples 
than  the  Germans,  and  some  problems  that  occupy  them  we 
hardly  feel.  Pessimism,  i.e.,  the  ripe  philosophical  view,  not 
mere  spleen  or  fits  of  indigestion,  has  no  hold  among  us.  But 
it  was  pessimism,  spreading  like  a contagion  through  Germany 
and  becoming  almost  a religion  with  many,  pessimism  of  the 
peculiarly  seducing  type  which  Schopenhauer  represented,  that 
awoke  Nietzsche  to  the  necessity  of  criticising  pity.  For  what 
is  pessimism?  Without  pretending  to  a formal  definition,  I 
may  say  that  it  is  a sense  so  great  and  so  keen  of  the  suffering 
and  wrong  in  the  world — of  suffering  and  wrong,  too,  as  bound 
up  with  the  individual  existence  which  characterizes  the  world — 
that  one  is  led  to  turn  his  back  on  life.  And  how  is  release 
from  life  secured?  By  pity  itself — at  least,  this  is  the  flrst 

So  J.  G.  Hibben  in  a sermon,  as  reported  in  Springfield  Republican, 
January,  1913. 

‘“Art.,  “Nietzsche.” 

Lectures  and  Essays  on  Natural  Theology  etc.,  pp.  536-7. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 284;  cf.  § 290. 

E.g.,  in  Will  to  Power,  § 269. 


THE  “ALTRUISTIC”  SENTIMENTS 


303 


step.  For  in  pity,  we  take  others’  plight  on  ourselves,  become 
one  with  it — and  if  we  go  far  enough,  we  may  almost  cease  to 
feel  separately,  individual  craving  and  even  individual  con- 
sciousness tending  to  disappear ; partly  in  this  way,  and  partly 
by  actively  mortifying  ourselves,  crucifying  the  instincts  that 
lead  to  life,  we  sink  at  last  into  Nirvana.®^  It  is  pity  in  the 
light  of  its  Schopenhauerian  consequences  of  this  description 
that  fixed  the  attention  of  Nietzsche,  and  made  him  look  into  it 
and  over  it  in  all  its  forms  and  guises.^  A sentiment  similar 
in  character,  though  unaccompanied  by  the  radical  general 
view,  is  characteristic  of  Christianity.  Indeed,  pity  is  an  under 
(or  over)  note  in  modern  socialism  and  anarchism,  and  in  the 
modern  democratic  movement  generally.®®  To  Schopenhauer, 
pity  was  the  essence  of  morality  itself.® 

Now,  I find  no  natural  hardness  of  heart  in  Nietzsche,  and, 
what  is  stranger,  considering  the  common  opinion,  no  failure 
to  approve  pity  within  limits.  He  once  spoke  of  it  as  shameful 
to  eat  one’s  fill  while  others  go  hungry.®  “I  am  thinking,”  he 
writes  in  relation  to  a friend  who  had  had  a sad  experience, 
“how  I can  make  a little  joy  for  him,  as  proof  of  my  great 
pity.  ’ ’ His  sister  says  as  to  his  experiences  as  ambulance 
nurse  in  the  Franco-Prussian  war:  “What  the  sympathetic 
heart  of  my  brother  suffered  at  that  time  cannot  be  expressed; 
months  after,  he  still  heard  the  groans  and  agonized  cries  of 
the  wounded.  During  the  first  year  it  was  practically  im- 
possible for  him  to  speak  of  these  happenings.”®®  Nietzsche 
himself  says  in  a general  way  that  one  who  begins  by  unlearning 
the  love  of  other  people  ends  by  finding  nothing  worthy  of 
love.®^  He  speaks  reverently  of  Prometheus’s  pity  for  men  and 
sacrifice  in  their  behalf.®®*  Addressing  judges,  Zarathustra 
says,  “Your  putting  to  death  should  be  an  act  of  pity,  not  of 

See  Nietzsche’s  moving  description  of  the  saint  in  the  early  tribute 
to  Schopenhauer  (“Schopenhauer  as  Educator,”  sect.  5). 

Cf.  Genealogy  etc.,  preface,  §§  5,  6;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §§  222, 
293;  Daicn  of  Day,  §138;  The  Antichristian,  §7;  Will  to  Poicer,  §82; 
also  the  comments  of  Simmel,  op.  cit.,  pp.  213-4;  Vaihinger,  op.  cit.,  p.  88; 
Chatterton-Hill,  op.  cit.,  pp.  22,  69.  There  is  a sarcastic  reference  to  the 
“ religion  of  pity  ” and  its  disciples  in  Joyful  Science,  § 377. 

” Cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 132;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 202. 

Leben  ete.,  II,  682. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 401. 

Joyf  ul  Science,  §251. 


304 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


revenge.”^®  “That  you  are  pitiful  I presuppose;  to  be  without 
pity  means  to  be  sick  in  mind  and  body” — this  though  it  is 
added  that  much  mind  is  needed  to  dare  to  be  pitiful.®®  Nietz- 
sche gratefully  recognizes  what  the  “spiritual  men”  of  Chris- 
tianity have  done  for  Europe  in  giving  consolation  to  the 
suffering,  courage  to  the  oppressed  and  despairing,  however 
otherwise  these  same  men  have  sinned.®^  He  speaks  of  the 
pity  of  the  saint  as  pity  for  the  soil  (Schmutz)  of  the  human, 
all-too-human.®^  One  who  says  things  like  these  can  hardly  be 
said  to  be  without  appreciation  of  pity.  He  does,  indeed,  speak 
of  triumphing  over  pity  at  times — but  this  presupposes  that 
one  has  it.  His  “higher  men,”  called  to  great  tasks  of  creation 
and  destruction,  are  usually  beings  with  normal  sympathetic 
feelings — otherwise  how  could  he  speak  of  their  not  going  to 
pieces  from  the  suffering  they  bring?®® 

In  fact,  ordinary  sympathetic  feeling  for  those  who  are 
temporarily  disabled  or  sick  or  otherwise  unfortunate,  such  as 
we  show  in  our  homes  or  as  the  community  shows  in  public 
institutions,  I see  no  trace  of  disapproval  of  in  Nietzsche:  he 
rather  comments  with  implied  satisfaction  on  the  immense 
amount  of  humanity  attained  by  present-day  mankind,  though 
putting  on  the  other  side  of  the  balance-sheet  the  fact  of  de- 
cadence.®* He  knows  that  communities  as  hard-hearted  as  he  is 
sometimes  supposed  to  have  been  simply  could  not  hold 
together  or  live — and  he  once  mentions  the  care  of  the 
sick  and  poor  as  among  the  natural  customs  and  institu- 
tions of  society  (along  with  the  state,  courts  of  justice,  and 
marriage) .®® 

What  he  has  in  mind  in  criticising  pity  comes  out  in  the 
saying  of  Zarathustra,  “Not  your  pity  but  your  bravery  has 
saved  hitherto  the  unhappy”;®®  and  again  in  a remark  that 
where  there  is  the  impulse  to  help,  the  unpleasant  sensation 

Zarathustra,  I,  vi. 

««  Werke,  XII,  297,  § 344. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 62. 

Ibid.,  §271. 

Werke,  XIV,  412,  § 291. 

Will  to  Power,  § 63. 

" The  Antichristian,  § 26.  A.  W.  Benn,  ordinarily  discriminating, 
misinterprets  Nietzsche  at  this  point  (International  Journal  of  Ethics, 
October,  1908,  pp.  16-7). 

Zarathustra,  1,  x. 


THE  “ALTRUISTIC”  SENTIMENTS 


305 


of  pity  is  overcome.®^  For  here  pity  is  taken  as  feeling  simply 
— and  feeling  of  a sad  and  depressing  sort.®®  If  we 
become  the  echo  of  others’  miseries,  he  questions  whether 
we  can  be  really  helpful  or  quickening  to  them.®®  One 
day,  as  Zarathustra  is  walking  along,  he  comes  on  a repulsive 
object  which  he  at  last  makes  out  to  be  a human  being;  at  first 
pity  overcomes  him  and  he  is  described  as  sinking  down  like 
a falling  tree,  heavily;  and  then  he  arises,  and,  his  face 
becoming  hard,  he  speaks  the  truth  to  him.™  Pity  of  itself 
weakens,  unnerves — such  is  the  idea.  We  know  that  the 
Greeks,  viewing  it  in  this  light,  classed  it  along  with  fear,  and, 
according  to  Aristotle,  the  purpose  of  tragedy  was  to  give,  as 
it  were,  a vent  to  these  emotions,  and  so  effect  a purgation  of 
the  soul.  So  Nietzsche  says  that  if  any  one  should  go  about 
seeking  for  occasions  for  pity  and  holding  ever  before  his  mind 
all  the  misery  he  could  lay  hold  of  in  his  neighborhood,  he 
would  inevitably  become  sick  and  melancholy.  He  who  wishes 
to  be  a physician — a physician  in  any  sense — must  accordingly 
be  on  his  guard,  otherwise  the  depressing  feeling  may  lame 
him  and  keep  his  fine  hand  from  doing  its  proper  work.”  A 
reviewer  of  one  of  Mr.  Galsworthy’s  recent  books  says:  “The 
spectator  in  these  vignettes  ...  is  always  pensive,  always 
passive,  prone  to  lose  himself  in  what  might  not  unfairly  be 
called  an  intoxication  of  pity.”™  Here  is  the  point  of  view 
of  a part  of  Nietzsche’s  criticism.  Pity  of  this  kind  tends  to 
leave  things  as  they  are — is  a kind  of  sinking  and  melting 
before  them;  one  who  gives  up  to  it  is  really  taking  his  first 
step  in  the  downward  Schopenhauerian  path. 

And  yet  when  pity  is  active,^  it  may  do  harm  unless  it  is 
guided.  Much  mind,  Nietzsche  urges,  is  needed  in  exercising 
it.  With  the  sense  of  the  danger  connected  with  it,  he  once 
puts  the  problem  thus:  “To  create  circumstances  in  which 


Werlce,  XI,  230,  § 179. 

Cf.  Hoflfding’s  remarks,  op.  cit.,  pp.  149,  150;  also  Wallace’s,  op. 
cit.,  p.  237 ; and  see  Will  to  Power,  §§  44,  368. 

““  Dawn  of  Day,  § 144. 

Zarathustra,  IV,  vii. 

” Dawn  of  Day,  § 134.  By  way  of  contrast,  the  superior  man  is  said 
to  help  the  unfortunate,  not  or  scarcely  from  pity,  but  out  of  his  over- 
flowing strength  (Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 260). 

The  Nation  (New  York),  December  12,  1912. 


306 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


every  one  can  help  himself,  and  he  himself  decide  whether  he 
shall  be  helped.””  Helping,  he  feels,  is  a delicate  business; 
if  the  impulse  to  it  were  twice  as  strong  as  it  is, 
life  might  become  unendurable  for  many.  Let  a man  think, 
he  says,  of  the  foolish  things  he  is  doing  daily  and 
hourly  from  solicitude  for  himself,  and  then  what  would 
happen  if  he  became  the  object  of  a similar  solicitude  from 
others — why,  we  should  want  to  flee  when  a “neighbor”  ap- 
proached ! What  has  done  more  harm  than  the  follies  of  the 
compassionate?  asks  Zarathustra.”  Benevolence  must  be  newly 
appraised,  and  the  limitless  injury  perceived  that  is  continually 
worked  by  benevolent  acts — for  example,  what  a subject  for 
irony  is  the  love  of  mothers ! ” In  short,  pity  is  dangerous ; it 
must  be  held  within  limits,  intelligence  must  master  it — it  must 
be  habitually  sifted  by  reason.” 

I pass  over  the  further  and  more  detailed  analysis  of  pity. 
At  bottom  it  is  not  unlike  the  analysis  of  love  and  sacrifice, 
although  it  of  course  brings  out  the  specific  features  of  pity, 
such  as  that  it  is  the  opposite  of  admiration  and  means  a 
looking  down,  and  hence  should  be  practised  with  shame,  not 
publicly,  out  of  regard  for  its  object.”  Nietzsche  is,  to  my 
recollection,  the  first  moralist  to  point  out  the  lack  of  delicacy 
in  pity  as  often  shown,  its  intrusiveness — so  that  to  be  pro- 
tected from  it  is  the  instinct  of  many  a fine  nature,  and  a 
certain  purification  is  necessary  for  us  after  we  have  shown  it, 
inasmuch  as  we  have  gazed  on  another  in  suffering,  and,  in 
helping  him,  have  hurt  his  pride.”*' 

IV 

What,  then,  are  the  limits  for  pity?  If  one  stops  to  reflect 
a moment,  one  sees  that  an  answer  to  the  question  depends  upon 
what  sort  of  an  ideal  one  has  in  his  mind;  indeed,  upon 
whether  one  has  any  ultimate  ideal.  Early  Christianity,  for 

” Werke,  XIV,  261,  § 3. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 143. 

” Zarathustra,  II,  iii. 

Werke,  XIII,  212,  § 493. 

Will  to  Power,  § 928;  Werke,  XI,  270,  § 276. 

Daivn  of  Day,  § 135;  Zarathustra,  II,  iii. 

’’'‘Zarathustra,  IV,  viii;  Ecce  Homo,  I,  §4;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil, 
§ 270;  Werke,  XIV,  360,  § 227;  Zarathustra,  II,  iii. 


THE  “ALTRUISTIC”  SENTIMENTS 


307 


example,  had  its  ideal — that  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Into 
that  heavenly  order  (whether  to  be  consummated  on  this  earth 
or  not)  were  to  be  gathered  the  good,  the  just,  the  loving,  the 
merciful,  the  pure — they  from  the  Christian  standpoint  were 
the  wheat  of  the  harvests  of  the  world,  they  were  to  be  gar- 
nered up  in  the  coming  order  for  ever.  It  is  a dream  that  still 
has  power  to  charm  the  heart.  But  what  of  those  of  a different 
moral  character — the  chaff  or  waste  of  the  world,  or,  to  use 
still  other  images,  the  trees  that  bore  no  fruit,  the  salt  that 
had  no  savor?  Was  this  kind  of  material,  this  waste  and 
wreckage  of  human  life,  to  be  tenderly  regarded  all  the  same, 
to  be  nursed,  pitied,  allowed  to  continue  and  perpetuate  its 
kind  ? Hardly : we  know  rather  that  the  chaff  was  to  be  burnt 
up  with  unquenchable  fire,  the  trees  hewn  down,  the  salt  cast 
out  and  trodden  under  foot.  I use  the  consequence  not  in  the 
slightest  as  an  objection  to  Christianity.  There  is  the  same 
logic  implicit  in  any  affirmation  of  a great  end  of  life — and 
something  kindred  is  involved  in  our  most  commonplace  prac- 
tical purposes.  If  we  have  any  good  thing  in  mind,  we  reject 
what  does  not  correspond  to  it.  If  we  set  out  an  orchard,  we 
leave  to  one  side  trees  that  come  maimed  or  broken  from  the 
nursery.  If  we  send  our  apples  to  market,  we  exclude  those 
below  a certain  grade.  Well,  Nietzsche  had  an  ideal,  an  ultima 
ratio  of  human  life.  It  was  a wholly  earthly  {diesseitige) 
ideal,  and  yet  it  was  of  humanity  rising  to  what  may  relatively 
be  called  superhuman  heights,  of  men  who  should  be  half  like 
Gods — not  merely  good,  but  much  more,  beings  to  be  feared, 
revered  as  well  as  loved.  They  should  be  the  consummate  fruit 
of  humanity’s  tree,  and,  if  all  could  not  be  such  men  or  super- 
men themselves,  they  could  at  least  facilitate  them,  work  for 
them,  fit  themselves  into  a scheme  of  social  existence  that  would 
tend  that  way.  Nietzsche  conceives  that  humanity  might  actu- 
ally be  turned  into  an  organism  working  to  this  end — no  longer 
then  a disconnected,  sprawling  mass  of  atoms  (smaller  or 
larger)  as  at  present,  but  a related,  interdependent,  organic 
whole — a whole  with  an  aim,  this  aim.  And  so  arises  his  prin- 
ciple of  selection,  and  canon  for  pity.  What  will  fit  into  an 
organism  of  this  sort  is  worth  preserving,  what  will  not  is  not 
worth  preserving.  Equal  regard  for  all  material  is  impossible. 


608 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


Wliat  will  make  itself  a part  of  an  ascending  humanity,  of  a 
process  by  which  the  type  will  he  raised  and  the  power  and 
splendor  of  the  species  shine  forth,  what  will  at  last  give  us 
“supermen”? — that  is  the  critical  question.  If  the  energy  of 
ascending  life  is  in  a man,  or,  if  not  just  that,  if  he  is  willing 
to  be  used  for  ascending  life,  if  he  will  do  good  work,  even  if 
only  to  stand  and  wait  on  those  who  are  better  than  he,  such 
a man  is  good,  and  all,  high  and  low,  will  protect  him;  but  if 
a man  is  a sponge,  a parasite,  unfruitful,  unproductive — not 
to  say  diseased  and  degenerate — he  is  bad,  and  pity  to  him  is 
misplaced. 

Nietzsche  argues  substantially  in  this  way:  there  can  be 
no  solidarity  in  a society  where  there  are  unfruitful,  unpro- 
ductive, and  destructive  elements,  which  may  moreover  have 
still  more  degenerate  olfspring  than  themselves;  to  this  extent 
the  law  of  altruism  does  not  apply ; there  is  no  right  to  help,  to 
equality  of  lot,  of  unsound  members — the  organism  is  liable  to 
perish  if  such  a course  is  pursued;  when  within  it  the  smallest 
organ  fails  to  do  its  part  in  however  slight  degree,  the  organism 
degenerates ; the  physiologist  accordingly — the  social  physi- 
ologist as  truly  as  one  who  deals  with  a physical  body — demands 
the  removal  of  the  degenerate  part,  denies  solidarity  with  it, 
is  at  the  farthest  remove  from  pity  for  it.®“  Undoubtedly  it  is 
strong  doctrine,  and  yet  Nietzsche  must  not  be  taken  to  mean 
what  he  does  not  mean.  It  is  not,  for  example,  temporary 
illness  or  disability  that  he  has  in  mind;  I might  almost  say 
that  it  is  not  primarily  sickness  of  the  body  at  all,  but  rather 
of  will  and  character,  and  bodily  incapacity  so  far  as  it  is  a 
symptom  of  this,  of  defective  life-energy.  We  read  that  Zara- 
thustra  is  gentle  to  the  sick  and  wishes  that  they  may  recover 
and  create  a higher  body  for  themselves.®^  It  is  the  hopeless, 
the  badly  made  in  the  beginning,  that  Nietzsche  has  in  view. 
Secondly,  he  does  not  mean,  as  some  have  understood  him, 
particularly  the  working  class,  the  poor  pecuniarily.  Nietzsche 
has  as  much  honor  for  the  worker  with  his  hands,  as  much 
sense  of  his  necessity,  his  indispensableness  in  an  organic 

to  Power,  §52;  Ecce  Homo,  III,  iv,  §2;  cf.  Will  to  Power, 

§ 734. 

Zarathustra,  I,  iii. 


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309 


humanity,  as  any  one — he  even  questions  if  he  need  be  poor  as 
he  now  commonly  is.®^  He  means  the  defectives,  the  ineapables, 
the  “good-for-nothings”  everywhere — men  who  hate  a day’s 
work  more  than  they  do  vice  or  crime,  and  will  live  in  idleness 
if  they  can;  and  these  are  not  confined  to  the  so-called  lower 
classes  in  the  community. 

And  yet  what  do  we  modern  peoples  do,  what  have  we  been 
doing  for  centuries?  Somehow  we  have  acquired  (Nietzsche 
thinks  largely  through  Christian  influence)  the  idea  that  men 
as  such  are  beings  of  infinite  worth,  that  all  are  equal  before 
God,  that  we  must  love,  cherish,  protect,  care  for  every  one  of 
them.  And  the  idea  of  the  individual’s  importance  and  of 
equality,  equal  rights,  has  taken  political  form  in  democracy 
and  is  now  taking  a still  more  accentuated  form  in  the  social- 
istic and  anarchistic  movements.  The  single  person  has  become 
so  important,  so  absolute  in  our  eyes,  that  he  can’t  be  sacrificed; 
the  sickly,  degenerate,  misshapen  specimens  of  the  race  are, 
forsooth,  ends  in  themselves  along  with  the  rest,  and  we  must 
minister  to  them.  And  so  here  they  are,  apparently  in  accumu- 
lating numbers  as  time  goes  on,  in  view  (and  out  of  view)  in 
all  the  great  centers  of  population — so  that  a recent  writer  has 
calculated  (let  us  hope  that  it  is  an  overestimate)  that  while 
in  England  of  “superior  men”  there  are  about  one  to  four 
thousand  of  the  population,  of  idiots  and  known  imbeciles  (not 
counting  those  kept  out  of  sight)  there  are  one  to  four  hun- 
dred.®^ Not  only  can  we  not  sacrifice  these  miserable  individuals ; 
they  think  themselves  that  they  can’t  be  sacrificed — they  feel 
that  they  have  as  much  right  to  life  as  others ; we  have  stuffed 
them  up  in  a sense  of  their  importance — have  played,  as 
thoughtless  altruism  is  apt  to  do,  into  their  egoism.  Their 
methods  of  keeping  themselves  alive  have  become  instincts, 
institutions,  are  called  “humanity.”®^  And  the  “good”  man — 
and  this  is  the  terrible  thing  to  Nietzsche — is  just  the  one  who 
takes  the  side  of  these  miscarriages;  goodness,  as  it  is  now 

Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 764.  This  position  of  the  worker  will  be 
considered  at  length  in  chap.  xxix. 

Mrs.  John  Martin,  Is  Mankind  Advancing?  p.  48  n.  Cf.  A.  J. 
Balfour,  “ High  authorities,  I believe,  hold  that  at  this  moment  in  Britain 
we  have  so  managed  matters  that  congenital  idiots  increase  faster  than 
any  other  class  of  the  population”  (Theism  and  Humanism,  1915,  p.  109). 

Will  to  Power,  § 401. 


310 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


commonly  ^conceived,  being  pre-eminently  shown  in  pitying, 
caring  for,|and  tending  them“ 

In  other  words,  by  following  mistaken  ideas  we  have  cut 
athwart  the  law  of  selection,  which  is  an  inevitable  part  of  the 
law  of  development,®®  We  have  ourselves  acquired  a sickly  and 
unnatural  sensibility  (we  can’t  stand  the  sight  of  suffering,  we 
weak  creatures  of  today)  ; we  have  stimulated  the  egoism  of 
the  sickly  and  degenerate,  and,  by  holding  fast  in  life  great 
numbers  of  misshapep  beings,  have  given  to  existence  itself  a 
gloomy  and  questionable  aspect.®®  And  for  the  result,  Nietzsche 
holds,  as  I have  said,  Christianity  chiefly  responsible.^  By 
giving,  as  it  does,  an  absolute  value  to  the  individual,  it  makes 
it  impossible  to  sacrifice  him.  Genuine  human  love  is  hard,  full 
of  self-conquest,  because  it  needs  sacrifice;  while  this  pseudo- 
humanity which  is  called  Christianity  strives  just  that  no  one 
be  sacrificed.®® 

Nietzsche  is  sometimes  said  to  have  been  carried  away  by 
Darwin — his  ideas  have  been  called  “Darwinism  gone  mad.’”" 
This  is  superficial  (Nietzsche’s  attitude  to  Darwin  was  in  reality 
a very  mixed  one),"  indeed  a bit  childish,  when  one  considers 
the  role  which  the  idea  of  selection  has  played  in  the  world. 
Emerson,  in  “The  World-Soul,”  says: 

“ He  serveth  the  servant. 

The  brave  he  loves  amain ; 

He  kills  the  cripple  and  the  sick, 

And  straight  begins  again ; 

For  gods  delight  in  gods. 

And  thrust  the  weak  aside; 

To  him  who  scorns  their  charities 
Their  arms  fly  open  wide.” 

And  this  was  before  Darwin.  Indeed,  the  idea  of  selection,  of 
acceptance  and  unpitying  rejection,  of  an  immanent  struggle 
for  existence  in  the  world,  is  as  old  as  the  Bible — as  the  prophet 

Ecce  Homo,  IV,  §8;  ef.  Werke,  XIV,  66-7,  § 132;  119,  § 252. 

7'he  Antichristian,  § 7. 

Will  to  Power,  § 52;  Beyond  Oood  and  Evil,  § 202. 

The  Antichristian,  §7.  Cf.  Emerson  {Representative  Men,  chap,  i), 
“ Enormous  populations,  if  they  be  beggars,  are  disgusting,  like  hills  of 
ants,  or  of  fleas — the  more,  the  worse.” 

Will  to  Power,  § 246.  Emerson  says,  on  the  other  hand,  “The 
more  of  these  drones  perish,  the  better  for  the  hive  ” (The  Conduct  of  Life, 
“ Fate  ”) . 


THE  “ ALTRUISTIC  ” SENTIMENTS 


311 


Isaiah,  with  his  doctrine  of  the  survival  of  a remnant.  The 
question  is,  what  is  to  be  selected  ? Nature  does  not  do  so  very 
ill  herself,  and,  in  Nietzsche’s  estimation,  is  not  to  be  set  down 
as  unmoral  because  she  is  without  pity  for  the  degenerate 
and  yet  man  with  clear  vision  might  do  better  than  nature, 
and  avoid  her  enormous  waste — he  might  substitute  purposive 
selection  for  natural  selection  and  intelligently  aim  at  what 
she  is  blindly  groping  for,  or  at  least  making  possible,®^  The 
aim  which  Nietzsche  suggests  is  that  organic  aim,  culminating 
in  something  transcendent,  which  I have  hinted  at.  It  springs 
from  a love  that  looks  far  away,  and  conquers  and  transcends 
pity.  “Spare  not  thy  neighbor.  Man  [present  man]  is  some- 
thing that  must  be  surpassed.”®^ 

Just  how  the  selective  process  is  to  be  carried  out  in  detail 
Nietzsche  does  not  tell  us — there  is  no  systematic  or  special 
treatment  of  the  subject.  He  hints  at  the  segregation  of  unde- 
sirable elements.®®  He  tells  the  story  of  a saint  who  recom- 
mended a father  to  kill  a misshapen,  sickly  child,  and  who, 
when  reproached  with  cruelty,  said,  “Is  it  not  more  cruel  to 
allow  it  to  live  ? ” ®*  He  urges  a new  and  more  sacred  concep- 
tion of  marriage.  Are  you  a man,  Zarathustra  says,  who  dare 
wish  for  himself  a child?  Are  you  a victorious  one,  a self- 
conqueror, master  of  your  senses,  lord  of  your  virtues?  Not 
only  onward  shall  you  propagate  yourself,  but  upward.  Mar- 
riage : so  call  I the  will  of  two  to  create  one  who  is  more  than 
they  who  created  him.®®  Those  with  only  cattle-like  dispositions 
in  their  bodies,  it  is  elsewhere  stated,  should  not  have  the  right 
to  marry.®®  Stern  and  exacting  as  all  this  sounds,  Nietzsche  is 
not  conscious  of  any  real  inhumanity.®’^  While  he  would  not 
have  the  higher,  stronger  types  leave  their  own  tasks  to  tend 
the  sickly,  he  has  so  little  idea  of  wishing  to  put  an  end  to 

Will  to  Power,  § 52. 

^ Werke,  XII,  123-4,  § 243;  191,  § 408. 

’‘‘^Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  §4;  cf.  prologue,  §3;  also  I,  x;  and  Werke, 
XIV,  72,  § 140. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 17;  Genealogy  etc..  Ill,  § 26. 

^‘‘•Joyful  Science,  §73. 

Zarathustra,  I,  xx. 

Werke,  XIV,  62,  § 119.  Cf.  as  to  the  chronic  sick  and  neuras- 
thenics, Will  to  Power,  § 734. 

Cf.  the  picture  of  future  “humanity,”  Joyful  Science,  § 337  (par- 
ticularly the  close  of  the  paragraph). 


312 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


the  latter  summarily  that  he  wants  them  tended  by  the  more 
spiritual  and  gifted  members  of  their  own  class — defining  thus 
the  function  of  the  ascetic  priest.®*  He  would  make  their  lot 
as  easy  as  possible.  Ironical  as  it  may  sound — he  does  not 
mean  it  ironically — he  would  help  them  to  pass  away.  When 
something  has  to  fall,  it  may  be  a mercy  to  hasten  its  falling — 
such  is  his  feeling.®®  He  puts  it  as  a proposition  of  human  love, 
his  first  proposition:  the  weakly  and  misshapen  should  pass 
away,  and  we  should  help  them  to  this  end.*®®  He  also  hints 
that  they  may  come  to  choose  their  own  passing  away,  dying 
then  in  perhaps  greater  dignity  than  they  have  ever  lived,  and 
almost  winning  the  right  to  life  again.*®* 

Such,  then,  and  so  inspired  are  the  limits  which  Nietzsche 
would  set  to  pity.*®*  Pity  of  the  prevailing,  thoughtless  kind 
he  calls  a crime  against  life,  an  extreme  immorality — he  does 
not  mince  his  words  in  speaking  of  it.*®*  Indeed,  he  goes 
further,  and  in  a lofty  way  would  not  pity  his  own  disciples. 
“To  the  men  that  concern  me,  I wish  suffering,  solitude, 
illness,  mistreatment,  disgrace.  ...  I have  no  pity  for  them, 
because  I wish  them  the  one  thing  that  can  prove  today 
whether  a man  has  value  or  not — that  he  hold  his  ground.”*®^ 
Yet  the  warnings  which  Nietzsche  utters  in  general  against  pity 
are  not,  he  says,  for  all,  but  rather  for  him  and  his  kind,  i.e., 
those  who  rise  to  his  point  of  view;  the  implication  being  that 
otherwise  to  renounce  pity  might  be  mere  callousness  and 
brutality.*®®  ° And  how  far  he  is  from  condemning  pity  per  se, 
is  shown  in  what  he  says  of  “our  pity,”  “my  pity.”  It  is  a 
pity  for  the  too  common  lot  of  the  higher,  rarer  types  of  men, 
seeing  how  easily  they  go  to  pieces,  what  a waste  there  often 
is  of  their  capacities.*®®  It  is  a pity  over  the  low  averages  of 
human  life,  over  the  process  of  making  men  smaller,  that  he 
thinks  is  going  on  under  Christian  and  democratic  infiuence. 

Genealogy  etc.,  Ill,  §§  14,  15. 

Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  § 20. 

The  Antichristian,  § 2. 

Cf.  footnote  47,  p.  301. 

’‘’“Edmund  Burke  spoke  of  “minds  tinctured  with  humanity” — is 
not  this  a liappy  phrase,  “tinctured,”  not  controlled? 

Will  to  Power,  § 246;  cf.  § 54. 

Ihid.,  § 910. 

Zarathustra,  IV,  vii. 

^'‘"Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 269;  Will  to  Power,  § 367. 


THE  “ALTRUISTIC”  SENTIMENTS  313 

over  the  very  pity  of  which  we  Christians  are  so  proud,  which 
does  not  see  the  place  and  necessity  of  sutfering  and  sacrifice 
in  the  world — so  pity,  he  says,  against  pity ! Oh,  for  a 
glimpse  now  and  then,  he  exclaims,  of  something  perfect, 
wrought  out  to  the  end,  happy,  mighty,  triumphant,  in  which 
there  is  still  something  to  fear — of  a man  who  justifies  man, 
a complementary  and  redeeming  instance,  in  view  of  whom  we 
dare  hold  our  faith  in  man ! But  what  he  sees  has  a wearying 
effect  upon  him.  We  modern  creatures,  indeed,  want  nothing 
to  fear,  we  want  great  men  only  as  they  serve  us,  as  they  make 
themselves  one  with  us — no,  they  must  not  harm  us  or  the 
least  thing  that  lives ! And  yet  for  Nietzsche  to  lose  the  fear 
of  man,  is  also  to  lose  the  love  of  him,  reverence  for  him,  hope 
in  him,  yes,  the  wish  for  him — it  is  the  way  to  satiety  with 
the  umana  commedia,  to  nihilism.^'’® 

^'‘''Beyond  Oood  and  Evil,  § 225. 

Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 12;  cf.  Werke,  XIV,  66-7,  § 132;  Joyful  Science, 
§§  379,  382. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 


CRITICISM  or  MORALITY  (Concluded).  TRUTH  AS  AN 

OBLIGATION.  NET  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRITICISM 

I 

As  we  have  already  seen,  morality  is  conceived  of  by  Nietzsche 
as  a law  (condition  of  life)  of  social  groups,  and,  in  the  nature 
•of  the  ease,  truth,  i.e.,  truthful  relations  between  members  of 
the  group,  forms  a part  of  it.  There  is  no  need  to  show  in 
detail  how  habits  of  deception  would  prove  destructive  to  the 
life  of  the  group.  But  a further  step  may  be  taken,  and  is 
sometimes  taken.  Deception  or  dissimulation  may  be  consid- 
ered wrong  in  itself.  Moreover,  since  speaking  the  truth  in- 
volves knowing  it,  this  too  may  be  considered  obligatory — and 
obligatory  not  merely  for  reasons  of  social  utility,  but  as  an 
ideal  in  and  for  itself.  Truth,  in  both  meanings  of  the  term, 
may  come  to  seem  absolute  duty — and  as  matter  of  fact  a fine 
and  exacting  conscience  in  these  directions  has  arisen  among 
civilized  peoples. 

But  Nietzsche  asks,  Is  truth  an  unconditional  obligation? 
First,  is  there  an  absolute  obligation  to  speak  or  act  the  truth — 
never  to  dissimulate?  It  is  necessary  to  distinguish  between 
his  personal  attitude  and  conduct,  and  the  answer  he  gives  to 
the  theoretic  question.  He  himself  was  an  example  of  the 
finest  openness  ^ — it  might  have  been  better  for  him  in  certain 
ways,  had  he  concealed  more  and  said  less.  He  was  apt,  too, 
to  judge  others  according  to  his  own  standard.  For  example, 
the  change  in  his  attitude  to  Wagner  was  due  in  no  slight 
degree  to  the  feeling  that  Wagner  was  something  of  an  actor. 
He  found  Bismarck  also  guilty  of  lack  of  sincerity,  though 
from  a different  motive  (viz.,  negligence).  He  remarks  that 
we  should  today  condemn  Plato  for  his  sanction  of  pia  fraus, 
and  Kant  for  deriving  his  categorical  imperative  as  he  did,  since 

' Cf.  Werke,  XII,  217,  § 457,  which  may  sound  boastful  to  those  who 
do  not  know  Nietzsche  well. 


314 


TRUTH  AS  AN  OBLIGATION 


315 


faith  certainly  did  not  come  to  him  in  that  way.^  All  the  same 
he  asks  whether  dissembling  can  be  absolutely  condemned.  He 
has  to  admit  that  it  has  played  a part  in  the  evolution  of  man, 
and  even  in  the  evolution  of  morality.  In  his  conduct  primitive 
man  more  or  less  concealed  his  real  self ; he,  so  to  speak,  clothed 
himself  with  the  mores  of  his  environment,  and  put  his  fearful 
side  out  of  sight — his  morality  was  a kind  of  protective  device. 
Yet  paradoxically  enough  the  pretense  might  become  reality  in 
time;  for  if  dissimulation  is  practised  long  enough,  it  becomes^ 
nature.  This  holds  of  the  strong  as  well  as  the  weak,  “Good- 
ness has  been  most  developed  by  long-continued  dissimulation 
which  sought  to  appear  goodness:  everywhere,  where  great 
power  existed,  the  necessity  of  just  this  kind  of  dissimulation 
was  perceived — it  inspired  assurance  and  confidence  and  multi- 
plied an  hundredfold  the  actual  amount  of  physical  force.” 
“In  the  same  way  honor  has  been  developed  to  great  propor- 
tions by  the  demand  for  an  appearance  of  honor  and  upright- 
ness— in  hereditary  aristocracies.”  Falsehood  is  then,  if  not 
the  mother,  the  nurse  of  goodness.  By  a kind  of  biological 
dialectic  dissimulation  at  last  abolishes  itself,  and  organs  and 
instincts  are  the  little  expected  fruits  in  the  garden  of  hypoc- 
risy.^ Evidently  then  truthfulness,  as  the  opposite  of  playing 
a part,  is  not  an  absolute  duty.  Nietzsche  even  thinks  that  a 
philosopher,  who  will  be  at  the  same  time  a great  teacher,  must 
assume  some  of  the  rights  of  a teacher  and  hold  back  much ; 
yet  he  must  not  be  suspected  of  doing  so,  and  a part  of  his| 
mastery  will  consist  in  the  success  of  his  dissimulation.^ 

Second,  is  there  a strict  obligation  to  know  the  truth — never 
to  be  deceived  ? Probably  few  men  have  had  a finer  intellectual 
conscience  than  Nietzsche — it  is  the  key  to  much  that  was  tragic 
in  his  intellectual  history:  he  would  not  be  taken  in,  whether 
as  to  the  make-up  of  existence,  as  to  religion,  as  to  Wagner,  as 
to  Schopenhauer,  as  to  morality,  or  as  to  truth  itself.  But  this, 
was  his  idiosyncrasy — did  he  regard  the  remorseless  pursuit 

* Werke,  XIII,  340-1,  § 847.  Cf.  Zarathustra’s  language  to  the  wizard, 
“Thou  actor!  thou  false  coiner!  Thou  liar  through  and  through!” 
(Zarathustra,  IV,  v,  §2). 

= Daion  of  Day,  § 248;  Werke,  XI,  264-5,  § 256;  cf.  XIII,  100-2;  XIV, 
67,  § 133. 

' Will  to  Power,  § 980. 


316 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


and  facing  of  reality  as  a duty  for  all?  On  the  contrary,  he 
came  to  question  such  a duty.  I say  “came,”  since  for  a time 
he  seems  to  have  regarded  knowledge  as  an  absolute  good.  “We 
should  rather  have  humanity  go  to  ruin  than  that  knowledge 
should  go  back,  ’ ’ he  once  wrote.®  Indeed,  he  still  honors  the  con- 
scientiousness of  scientific  investigators — “Were  scrupulousness 
in  knowing  gone,  what  would  become  of  seience?  The  same 
fine  sense  for  objective  truth  is  at  the  bottom  of  his  criticism 
of  morality;  he  even  says  that  skepticism  of  morality  is  a self- 
contradiction,  since  if  the  skeptic  does  not  feel  the  authoritative 
nature  of  truth,  he  has  no  longer  any  reason  for  doubting  and 
investigating  in  this  realm.'^  Nor  does  he  question  that  reason, 
the  intellectual  nature,  is  the  final  arbiter  of  truth  ® — he  knows 
of  no  short-cuts  to  truth  like  “intuition,”  “will  to  believe,”  the 
“needs  of  the  soul,”  etc.  That  a belief  “makes  happy”  proves 
nothing — a truth  may  be  dangerous  and  harmful;  the  ground- 
■eharacter  of  existence  may  be  such  that  knowledge  of  it  would 
be  ruinous  to  most;  it  might  be  the  measure  of  a mind’s 
strength,  how  far  it  could  stand  truth  or  had  to  have  it  attenu- 
ated, veiled,  sweetened,  falsified.®  Nietzsche’s  critical  question- 
ing goes  deeper  than  all  this — it  is  as  to  the  value  of  truth.^® 
We  have  been  hearing  much  discussion  of  late  as  to  the  meaning 
of  truth,  but  philosophers  have  not  often  asked,  What  is  it 
worth?  Most  appear  to  take  for  granted  that  the  possession 
of  it  is  desirable,  and  Nietzsche  is  the  first — or  among  the  first — 
to  disturb  this  naivete.  Why,  he  asks,  prefer  truth  to  appear- 
ance? Why  may  not  appearance  be  better?  Why  may  not 
something  we  in  part  create  be  better  than  what  is?  Indeed, 
what  reason  is  there  for  preferring,  how  can  we  speak  of  better 
at  all  in  this  connection,  save  as  we  have  a standard  of  value — 
something  which  we  do  indisputably  ereate? 

I may  give  one  or  two  illustrations,  which  will  perhaps 

“ Dawn  of  Day,  § 429.  The  later  attitude  was,  in  part  at  least,  a 
return  to  his  earliest  attitude  (see  ante,  pp.  53-4,  and  the  reference  to 
fiat  Veritas  pereat  vita  in  “Use  and  Harm  of  History,”  sect.  4);  the 
almost  limitless  magnifying  of  knowledge  belongs  to  his  middle  period. 

« Werke,  XIII,  115,  § 256. 

■’Ibid.,  XIII,  115,  § 256;  cf.  Werke,  XII,  84;  XIII,  121,  §§  268-9. 

® Dawn  of  Day,  § 167. 

® Genealogy  etc..  Ill,  § 24 ; Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 39.  Cf.  the 
tone  of  the  reference  to  intuition  in  Dawn  of  Day,  § 550. 

Genealogy  etc..  Ill,  § 24. 


TRUTH  AS  AN  OBLIGATION 


317 


make  his  meaning  clearer.  Suppose  that  reality  had  ultimately 
a tragic  character,  as  Nietzsche  early,  and  in  a sense  always, 
believed,  that  most  men  could  not  look  on  it  and  live,  would  it 
still  and  none  the  less  be  their  duty  to  face  it?  Would  facing 
it  and  perishing  be  better  than  deception  about  it  and  life? 
It  is  of  course  an  extreme  case,  but  it  may  none  the  less  serve 
as  a test,  and  now  as  at  the  beginning  Nietzsche  puts  life  first. 
“We  must  be  conscienceless  as  regards  truth  and  error,  so  long 
as  life  hangs  in  the  balance.”'^  Again,  the  mass  of  men  be- 
lieve in  things,  bodies,  atoms,  substances.  They  are  illusory 
beliefs  in  his  estimation,  but  none  the  less  convenient  and  useful 
for  the  practical  purposes  of  life.  “If  we  take  the  strictest 
standpoint  of  morality,  e.g.,  of  honesty  {Ehrlichkeit) , inter- 
course with  things  and  all  the  articles  of  faith  of  our  ordinary 
action  (as,  for  instance,  that  there  are  bodies)  are  unmoral.” 
But  Nietzsche  does  not  consider  us  obliged  to  throw  away  these 
articles  of  faith  on  this  account.^^ 

What  he  has  in  mind  appears  in  still  another  connection. 
There  is  a tendency  among  scientific  men  today  to  eschew 
theory  and  hypothesis — to  lay  the  emphasis  on  getting  facts,  ever 
more  facts,  even  the  petits  faits.  We  see  it  not  only  in  the 
natural  sciences,  but  in  history — the  important  thing  is  thought 
to  be  not  to  prove  anything,  not  to  judge,  to  approve  or  dis- 
approve, but  to  fix  the  facts,  describe  them,  be  a mirror  of 
them.^^  Nietzsche  regards  it  as  a kind  of  asceticism.  In  a 
way  indeed  he  honors  it-,  he  calls  the  painstaking,  scrupulous, 
scientific  men  who  deny  the  vagrant  speculative  instincts  in 
which  it  is  so  easy  to  wander  or  wallow,  the  real  heroes  in  the 
intellectual  world  of  our  day.^^  And  yet  he  asks  himself.  Why, 
in  the  last  analysis,  this  worship  of  the  actual,  this  rigid  sep- 
aration of  everything  subjective  from  it,  this  feeling  that  truth 
only  is  sacred  and  that  thinking  which  is  not  devoted  to  getting 
it  is  labor  thrown  away  ? In  other  days,  when  God  was  supposed 
to  be  behind  all  and  in  all,  reality  as  a whole  might  be  some- 

” Werke,  XII,  63,  § 108. 

XIV,  307,  § 140. 

” Cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §34;  Will  to  Power,  §616,  and  my 
general  treatment  of  the  subject  in  chap.  xv. 

Cf.  Genealogy  etc..  Ill,  § 26. 

” Ibid.,  Ill,  § 24. 


318 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


thing  to  be  revered  and  the  smallest  particle  of  it  better  than 
any  work  of  man’s;  but  now,  why  this  extreme  respect?  Nietz- 
sche sets  it  down  as  mere  prejudice  that  truth  is  of  more  value 
than  appearance  {Schein) — he  calls  it  the  worst  proven  opinion 
in  the  world.  He  even  asserts  the  contrary;  “If  there  is  in 
general  anything  to  worship  {aribeten),  it  is  appearance  that 
must  be  worshiped ; it  is  falsehood  and  not  truth  that  is 
divine ! ” Hence  he  sees  science — so  far  as  this  means  simply 
an  accurate,  painstaking  account  of  the  actual — in  a new  per- 
spective : no  longer  is  it  an  intrinsic,  self-evident  good  in  his 
eyes.  It  needs  a justification;  it  gives  rise  to  a problem.  This 
is,  of  course,  from  a standpoint  beyond  science:  “the  problem 
of  science  cannot  be  recognized  (erkannt)  on  the  ground 
(Boden)  of  science. Nor  can  it  answer  the  question  it 
raises.  To  this  end  other  things  must  be  taken  into  account; 
there  must  be  a larger,  more  ultimate  view,  a final  standard 
of  value — in  short,  some  kind  of  philosophy,  or  “faith.”  Only 
as  we  have  a supreme  value,  can  we  measure  the  worth  of 
science,  of  actuality,  or  of  anything  else.  To  attempt,  then,  to 
put  philosophy  “on  a strictly  scientific  basis,”  as  is  sometimes 
proposed,  is  really  to  invert  the  true  order  of  things : it  is,  as 
Nietzsche  half-humorously  remarks,  to  make  not  only  philosophy, 
but  the  truth  stand  on  its  head— a violation  of  all  decency  for 
beings  {Frauenzimmer)  so  respectable!^®  Nietzsche  thinks  that 
science,  however  unconsciously  to  itself,  has  rested  on  some  kind 
of  faith  in  the  past.  Even  the  ascetic  form  of  science  with 
which  we  are  familiar  today  has  its  presupposition  (“there  is 
no  presuppositionless  science”),^®  namely,  the  idea  that  getting 
pure  unadulterated  facts  is  greatly  important,  that  truth  is 
more  important  than  anything  else — itself  a broad,  extra- 
scientific,  and  most  discussable  proposition.®®  And  when  this 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 34;  Will  to  Power,  § 1011.  The  qualifying 
“ if  ” must  be  noticed. 

Attempt  at  Self-criticism”  (1886),  §2,  prefixed  to  later  editions 
of  The  Birth  of  Tragedy.  This  early  work  also  raised  the  problem  of 
science,  but  chiefly  from  another  angle,  that  of  art. 

'^Genealogy  etc..  Ill,  §24.  I need  not  say  that  the  words  “phi- 
losophy ” and  “ truth  ” are  feminine  in  German. 

Ibid.,  Ill,  §24;  Joyful  Science,  § 344. 

'"Nietzsche  regards  it  as  really  a metaphysical  proposition,  since 
in  the  order  of  things  we  know  an  absolute  will  to  truth  may  be  indirectly 
a will  to  death  (see  Joyful  Science,  § 344). 


TRUTH  AS  AN  OBLIGATION 


319 


faith  is  gone  or  shaken,  and  the  mere  blind  meehanieal  impulse 
of  knowing  lags  (for  it  may  be  as  blind  and  unreasoning  as  any 
other),  what,  in  the  absence  of  some  other  faith,  will  keep  it 
going,  what  purpose  shall  inspire  it  ? Nietzsche  thinks  that 
there  is  more  or  less  restlessness  and  inner  discontent  among 
scientific  men  today:  “science  as  a means  of  benumbing  oneself 
{Selbst-Betdubung) — do  you  know  that?”^  The  supreme 
value  which  he  himself  postulates  is  life,  ever  stronger  and 
more  victorious  life,  life  rising  to  the  superhuman  and  divine. 
With  such  an  ideal  he  has  something  with  which  to  measure 
the  worth  of  other  things:  now  science  may  receive  a direction, 
a meaning,  a limit,  a method,  a right  to  be.“  Truth  is  valuable 
so  far  as  it  helps  in  attaining  the  great  end,  is  necessary  to  its 
attainment ; but  that  which  gives  it  its  value,  fixes  also  the  limits 
of  its  value,  and  to  the  extent  that  truth  would  militate  against 
life,  not  to  say  undo  it,  its  saeredness  and  authority  cease.  Life 
is  beyond  true  and  false,  as  it  is  beyond  good  and  evil. 

Instances  of  the  utility  of  truth  and  science  it  is  needless 
to  give — they  are  on  every  hand.  But  instances  of  the  utility 
of  error  and  illusion  may  be  in  order.  I have  just  referred  to 
the  utility  of  the  error  which  most  men  make  about  the  physical 
world.  Nietzsche  also  recognizes — as  we  have  seen — the  bene- 
ficial role  which  illusions  of  free-will  and  responsibility  have 
played  in  the  past.^^^  In  social  life  and  intercourse  now  there 
may  be  useful  illusions.  There  is  no  duty  to  see  things  too 
clearly,  too  exactly.  It  was  one  of  Zarathustra ’s  prudences  to 
be  to  some  extent  blind  in  face  of  men,  to  allow  himself  to  be 
deceived  by  them.^  Nietzsche  outgrew,  but  did  not  regret  his 
illusions  about  Wagner — in  certain  years,  he  remarks,  we  have 
the  right  to  see  things  and  men  falsely,  to  have  magnifying 
glasses  to  give  us  hope.“  There  is  a value  in  illusions  like  those 
of  eternal  love,  eternal  revenge,  eternal  mourning — the  feelings 
become  ennobled  in  this  way,  even  if  the  event  proves  that  the 

Genealogy  etc.,  Ill,  § 25. 

Ibid.,  Ill,  §23.  Pascal  had  thrown  out  a similar  suggestion  (see 
the  reference  in  “ David  Strauss  etc.,”  sect.  8 ) . 

“ Ibid.,  § 24. 

Human,  etc.,  §40  (cf.  §33);  Werlce,  XIII,  204,  § 458;  The  Wan- 
derer etc.,  § 350. 

Zarathustra,  II,  xxi. 

^'Werfce,  XIV,  375,  §254;  cf.  380,  § 264. 


320 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


vows  cannot  be  kept5  Making  absolute  knowledge  a duty  is  a 
madness  of  the  period  of  virtue ; we  must  hallow  falsehood, 
illusion,  faith — life  would  be  in  peril  if  we  did  not.®  Nietzsche 
had  known  himself  the  perilousness  of  the  pursuit  of  truth. 
“For  so  dangerously  does  it  stand  with  us  today:  all  that  we 
loved  when  we  were  young  has  deceived  us.  Our  last  love — that 
which  makes  us  confess  this  now,  our  love  of  truth — let  us  see 
that  also  this  love  does  not  deceive  us!”®  That  is  (as  I under- 
stand him),  intellectual  honesty  itself,  the  finest  spiritualization 
of  morality,  is  dangerous — only  the  few  are  equal  to  all  the 
risks  it  involves.*’ 

So  torn  was  Nietzsche  by  contrary  instincts,  one  to  life,  the 
other  to  truth  at  any  cost,  that  he  undertook,  as  we  have  seen, 
the  desperate  expedient  of  changing  the  meaning  of  truth,  so 
that  it  should  signify  hereafter  life-preserving  and  upbuilding 
ideas — but  unavailingly.®  Indeed,  he  was  led  to  language 
stranger  still.  There  was  an  order  of  assassins  in  the  Orient 
whom  the  Crusaders  came  upon,  who — or  rather  whose  superiors 
— had  for  their  secret  motto,  “Nothing  is  true,  everything  is 
permitted.”  The  words  struck  Nietzsche  by  their  daring  and 
subtle  suggestiveness.  He  quotes  the  motto  more  than  once  and 
with  semi-approval  — and  has  scandalized  many.*’  On  the  face 
of  it,  it  means  complete  license,  intellectual  and  moral.  How 
can  he,  we  ask,  take  it  up  and  make  it  in  a way  his  own?  Is 
he  turning  his  back  on  all  his  past  ? He  does  indeed  once  say, 
“We  have  libertinage  of  the  mind  in  all  innocence,”  but  this  is 
in  characterizing  Europeans  of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  the 
“ we  ” is  not  necessarily  personal ; ® if  it  is  taken  personally,  it 
is  out  of  harmony  with  other  references  to  intellectual  libertin- 
ism and  his  ever  repeated  emphasis  on  intellectual  scrupulous- 
ness.® We  really  get  at  his  meaning  in  using  the  motto  (and 
also  in  the  remark  about  “libertinage  of  the  mind,”  in  case 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 27. 

TVer/ce,  XIII,  124,  § 280;  cf.  preface,  §4,  to  Joyful  Science. 

^^Werlce  (pocket  ed.),  VIII,  500,  §27. 

See  ante,  p.  187. 

Zarathustra,  IV,  ix  (it  is  the  “ shadow  ” here  who  speaks)  ; Geneal- 
ogy etc..  Ill,  §24;  Werhe,  XIII,  361,  § 888. 

Will  to  Power,  § 120. 

’’  Cf.  Ibid.,  §§  42,  43,  and  the  way  in  which  “ strict  conscience  for 
what  is  true  and  actual  ” is  spoken  of  in  Dawn  of  Day,  § 270. 


TRUTH  AS  AN  OBLIGATION 


that  has  to  be  taken  personally) , when  we  notice  the  connect, 
in  which  its  principal  use  is  made,  and  follow  the  highly  refineu 
discussion  of  the  value  and  significance  of  truth  in  which  it 
plays  a part — a discussion  which  I have  just  inadequately  sum- 
marized {Genealogy  etc.,  Ill,  §24).  In  an  earlier  chapter 
[XV]  we  observed  the  extent  of  his  skepticism  as  to  our  pos- 
session of  truth,  and  now  we  see  his  skepticism  as  to  its  value. 
He  could  offer  an  hypothesis  only  as  to  the  nature  of  reality, 
and  now  he  is  aware  that  any  kind  of  a judgment  of  value  pre- 
supposes some  standard  which  is  created  by  the  mind.  Hy- 
potheses, mental  constructions  or  creations  are  then  all  he  has 
— and  he  knows  that  his  right  to  have  them  may  be  questioned 
by  the  sort  of  asceticism  that  goes  by  the  name  of  science  today. 
If  we  bear  all  this  in  mind — if  we  remember  that  to  his  mind 
“truth”  is  not  strictly  true,  but  provisional,  shifting,  and  that 
instead  of  an  antithetical  true  and  false,  there  are  only  grades 
of  likelihood,  lighter  and  darker  shadings,  different  valeurs  (to 
borrow  the  language  of  painters),^  if  we  remember  also  that  a 
standard  of  value  is  not  something  independently  existing,  but 
a projection  of  the  mind  and  that  he  wanted  to  be  free  to 
project  his  standard,  we  may  perhaps  understand  (if  we  do  not 
justify)  how  in  a kind  of  bravado,  reckless  of  whether  he  was 
understood  or  not,  he  took  up  the  revolting  assassin-motto 
and  made  it  in  a sense  his  own.  Nietzsche  proposed  life, 
ascending  and  victorious  life,  as  the  goal  and  measure  of  things ; 
he  aspired  to  be  one  of  those  philosophers  who  are  at  the  same 
time  commanders  and  lawgivers,  saying  “so  should  things  be,” 
who  determine  a whither  and  a reason  for  man,®  and  the  goal 
and  law  he  proposed  were  more  or  less  different  from  those  that 
have  been  credited  in  the  past,  particularly  in  the  Christian 
past ; indeed,  the  Christian  world  confronted  him  with  the  view 
that  the  law  for  man  existed  already,  laid  down  by  God  him- 
self, and  it  was  a law  enjoining  certain  things,  like  benevolence 
and  pity,  which,  however  good  and  necessary  within  limits,  cut 
athwart  advancing  life,  when  taken  absolutely,  as  they  were  by 
Christianity.  And  so  he  turned  about  and  said,  No,  this  is  not 
God’s  law,  nor  anybody’s  save  those  who  posit  it;  there  is  no 

Cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 34. 

Cf.  ibid.,  §211;  Will  to  Power,  § 422. 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


jective  reality  or  truth  in  this  realm  and  I am  free  to  propose 
my  law.  “Nothing  is  true,  everything  is  permitted” — it  is  his 
charter  of  liberty  for  the  new  valuations.^®  Those  who  take 
the  words  out  of  their  connection,  and  interpret  them  as  a 
sanction  for  thinking  and  acting  in  general  as  one  likes,  do 
violence  to  the  whole  character  and  history  of  the  man.*^ 

With  these  remarks  on  his  views  of  truth,  I bring  the  con- 
sideration of  the  criticism  of  morality  to  an  end. 

II 

Before  turning,  however,  to  his  constructive  work  in  this 
realm,  it  may  be  well  to  sum  up  the  main  results  of  the  criticism. 
Some  have  the  idea  that  he  rejected  morality  in  toto,  and  it  must 
be  admitted  that  language  he  sometimes  uses  would,  taken 
literally,  justify  such  a conclusion.  He  speaks  of  the  self- 
destruction  of  morality,®^  of  his  campaign  against  morality,®® 
of  his  boring,  undermining  work  in  this  direction.®®  He  declares 
that  it  should  no  more  he  disgraceful  to  depart  from  morality.^® 
“ Morality  is  annihilated:  exhibit  the  fact.  There  remains  ‘I 
will.’  ” One  writer  speaks  of  him  as  bent  on  destroying  moral- 
ity root  and  branch,  challenging  not  merely  this  or  that  idea 
of  the  current  code,  but  wishing  to  annihilate  the  very  concep- 
tion of  the  code.^ 

But  few  thinkers  may  less  safely  be  judged  by  single  utter- 
ances than  Nietzsche.  One  or  two  things  must  be  borne  in  mind 
if  we  wish  to  get  at  his  real  meaning.  First,  by  morality  he 
understands  the  historical  phenomenon  going  by  that  term, 
namely  a social,  socially  imposed,  rule  of  life.  That  an  indi- 
vidual may  have  a rule  of  life  of  his  own  making  and  that  this 
may  be  called  morality,  he  does  not  question,  but  it  is  not  the 

The  motives  for  the  renunciation  of  absolute  morality  are  indi- 
cated plainly  in  Werke,  XIV,  87,  §174;  cf.  419-20,  § 303. 

"'Preface,  §4,  to  Daicn  of  Day;  Werke,  XII,  84,  §165;  Genealogy 
etc.,  Ill,  § 27. 

""  Ecce  Homo,  III,  iv,  § 1. 

Preface,  §§  I,  2,  to  Dawn  of  Day. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 164. 

Werke,  XIII,  363,  § 896;  cf.  Joyful  Science,  §107;  Werke  (pocket 
ed. ),  VII,  482,  §13;  preface,  §6,  to  Genealogy  etc. 

""A.  R.  Orage,  Friedrich  Nietzsche,  the  Dionysian  Spirit  of  the  Age, 
p.  46.  Even  W.  Weigand  states  it  broadly  as  Nietzsche’s  view  that 
morality  has  corrupted  humanity  (Friedrich  Nietzsche,  ein  psychologischer 
Versuch,  p.  101 ) . 


NET  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRITICISM 


323 


kind  of  morality  wkich  he  criticises.  Second,  in  his  criticism 
he  often  has  in  mind  not  so  much  actual  moral  codes  as  the 
theory  of  morality,  more  particularly  the  religious  or  absolutist 
theory,  as  it  has  developed  especially  under  Christian  influence, 
and  still  finds  an  echo  in  the  philosophies  of  Kant  and  Schopen- 
hauer. The  word  he  uses  in  the  passages  just  cited,  for  instance, 
is  not  “ SittUchkeit”  or  “Moralitdt,”  but  “die  Moral,”  which  is 
somewhat  like  “morals”  or  “moral  philosophy”  with  us — and 
the  moral  philosophy  he  has  in  mind  is  generally  the  Christian, 
or  at  least  Kantian  or  Schopenhauerian.  This  type  of  moral 
philosophy  is  not  so  common  in  our  secular  and  positivist  days 
as  it  was  once — and  perhaps  if  Nietzsche  had  lived  in  England 
or  America,  where  ethics  is  usually  quite  divorced  from  the- 
ology and  metaphysics,  he  would  have  written  differently.  The 
older  view  is  expressed  by  one  who  was  perhaps  the  last  great 
Englishman  to  maintain  the  Christian  tradition,  John  Henry 
Newman,  when  he  refers  to  conscience  as  a “messenger  from 
Him,  who,  in  nature  and  in  grace,  speaks  to  us  behind  a veil,” 
as  “the  aboriginal  vicar  of  Christ,  a prophet  in  its  informations, 
a monarch  in  its  peremptoriness,  a priest  in  its  blessings  and 
anathemas” ; and  also  by  the  late  Father  Tyrrell,  when  he 
says,  “It  is  from  the  Sinai  of  conscience  (individual  and  col- 
lective) that  He  thunders  forth  His  commandments  and  judg- 
ments. ” In  a modified  form  it  is  perpetuated  bj^Kant  and 
Schopenhauer,  both  of  whom,  though  in  differing  ways,  con- 
ceived of  morality  as  bringing  man  into  connection  with  a super- 
sensible, metaphysical  world.  It  is  this  morality  of  the  grand 
order  which  Nietzsche  criticises,  rather  than  the  modest,  utili- 
tarian morality,  little  more  than  a working  program,  which  is 
most  in  evidence  among  scholars  today. ^ He  speaks,  for  instance, 
of  a possible  unmoral  humanity  in  the  future,  the  connection 
showing  that  he  means  one  aware  that  “there  is  no  eternal  moral 
law.  ’ ’ The  morality  he  considers  is  something  that  has  been 
the  object  not  only  of  honor,  but  of  worship ; it  is  an  assur- 

A Letter  to  his  Grace  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  on  occasion  of  Mr. 
Gladstone’s  Recent  Expostulation  (1875),  §5;  see  also  interesting  later 
paragraphs  developing  this  view,  and  proving  that  it  is  the  historic  view 
of  the  church. 

“ I borrow  this  passage  from  Stanton  Coit’s  Social  Worship,  p.  50. 

Werke,  XII,  167,  § 342. 

Ecce  Homo,  III,  iv,  § 1. 


324. 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


anee  “on  which  we  philosophers  have  been  wont  to  build  for 
now  two  thousand  years  as  upon  the  surest  foundation  it 
is  something  which  gives  to  every  man  an  infinite  worth,  a meta- 
physical worth,  and  ranges  him  in  a different  order  from  this 
earthly  one;^®  it  is  “die  Moral  im  alien  Sinne,”  covering  all 
practices  and  mores  on  which  the  power  of  Gods,  priests,  and 
saviours  rests,  including  ideas  of  free-will,  sin,  guilt,  of  an 
offended  deity,  of  calamity  as  punishment,  of  a way  of  salva- 
tion, of  conscience  as  supernatural — the  whole  of  what  he  calls 
“the  moral  interpretation  of  existence,”  and  none  at  bottom 
made  it  more  assuredly  than  Schopenhauer.^®  The  historical 
(as  opposed  to  Nietzsche’s  imaginary)  Zarathustra  shared  in  it 
essentially,  turning  morality  as  he  did  into  something  meta- 
physical, making  it  a force,  a cause,  an  end  in  itself,  and  view- 
ing the  contest  between  good  and  evil  as  the  driving  wheel  in 
the  general  machinery  of  things.®®  Such  is  the  morality  which 
Nietzsche  thought  his  criticism  undermined — at  least  it  is 
oftenest  what  he  has  in  mind. 

To  put  the  results,  somewhat  in  order  (and  stating  them 
always  as  he  conceives  them),  the  criticism  undermines,  first, 
the  faith  that  morality  brings  one  in  any  special  sense  into 
contact  with  ultimate  reality.  Ree  had  said  that  the  moral  man 
stands  no  nearer  the  intelligible  (metaphysical)  world  than  the 
physical  man  does,  and  Nietzsche  follows  him.®^  To  put  morality 
into  the  nature  of  things,  as  philosophers  in  common  with  peo- 
ples have  done,  to  give  the  world  a moral  significance  has  as 
much  validity  and  no  more  than  ascribing  a male  or  female 
gender  to  the  sun.®®  Kindness,  sympathy  exist  and  have  a 
meaning  in  social  formations — they  serve  and  help  maintain 
a whole  in  conflict  with  other  wholes,  but  in  the  total  economy 
of  the  world,  where  there  can  be  no  passing  away  or  loss,  they 
are  a superfluous  principle.®®  The  whole  circle  of  ethical  con- 
ceptions can  be  explained  without  going  out  of  the  realm  of 
human  relations.  The  idea  of  a moral  order,  the  construing  of 

Preface,  § 2,  to  Dawn  of  Day. 

Will  to  Power,  § 55. 

See  practically  the  whole  first  book  of  Dawn  of  Day. 

" Ecce  Homo,  IV,  § 3. 

Human,  etc.,  § 37. 

Wcrfce,  XII,  130-1,  § 251;  Dawn  of  Day,  § 3. 

Werke,  XIV,  323. 


NET  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRITICISM 


325 


the  fortunes  of  men  and  nations  as  rewards  and  punishments,  is 
a palpable  anthropomorphism — and  not  an  altogether  noble  one. 

Further,  the  criticism  undermines  the  faith  that  morality 
is  the  thing  of  supreme  moment  in  life.®^  It  is  but  a means, 
and  has  been  made  an  end.  It  is  a means,  too,  to  a special  type 
of  life,  namely  the  social  or  gregarious,  and  there  are  other 
and  higher  types.  Great  individuals  standing  more  or  less 
apart  are  superior  to  the  “social  man,”  and  the  purely  moral 
instinct  is  to  suspect,  look  askance  at  them;  particularly  is  this 
so  with  Christian  morality,  which  is  social  morality  par  ex- 
cellence. The  flock  says.  Let  them  serve  us,  make  themselves 
one  of  us,  if  they  are  to  be  good : its  type  of  goodness  is  the 
type,  the  only  type.  Nietzsche  cannot  restrain  his  irony.  Why, 
he  asks,  should  people  with  these  little  gregarious  virtues  im- 
agine that  they  have  pre-eminence  on  earth  and  in  heaven — 
“eternal  life”  being  especially  for  them?  Even  if  an  individual 
brings  these  virtues  to  perfection,  he  is  none  the  less  a dear, 
little  absurd  sheep — provided  always  that  he  does  not  burst 
with  vanity,  and  scandalize  by  assuming  the  airs  of  a judge.®® 
Again,  “What  is  it  that  I protest  against?  That  one  should 
take  this  little  peaceful  mediocrity,  this  equilibrium  of  a soul 
that  knows  not  the  great  impulsions  arising  from  great  heapings 
up  of  force,  for  something  high,  possibly  even  as  the  measure 
of  man.”®®  In  a similar  spirit  he  makes  reflections  on  the 
morality  that  becomes  popular,  on  the  reverence  for  morality 
that  hinders  progress  in  morality.®^  To  him  exclusive  emphasis 
on  (gregarious)  morality  is  a kind  of  poison — he  invents  a 
chemical  name  for  it,  moralin.^*  The  social  virtues  take  man  a 
certain  way,  they  are  indispensable  to  the  existence  of  social 
groups,  but,  when  made  absolute,  they  go  against  the  develop- 
ment of  a higher,  stronger  type — they  tend  to  fix  man’s  form, 
although  it  has  been  a distinction  of  the  human  animal  hitherto 
that  he  was  without  a fixed  and  final  form.®®  Moreover,  the 

Cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  1006,  1020. 

“ /6id,  § 203;  cf.  § 252. 

§ 249. 

Joyful  Science,  § 292;  Dawn  of  Day,  § 19. 

■ “The  word  appears  in  compounds,  “ moralinsauer  ” (“The  Case  of 
Wagner,”  §3)  “ moralinfrei”  {Will  to  Power,  § 740;  The  Antichristian, 
§ 2 ) , and,  I think  by  itself,  though  I cannot  now  give  an  instance. 

“ Werlce,  XIV,  66-7,  § 132. 


326 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


propitious  time  for  the  blossoming  of  great  individuals  may  be 
limited,  and  an  absolute  dominancy  of  morality  may  mean  the 
defeat  of  the  higher  possibilities™  Morality  a danger! — this  is 
one  of  Nietzsche’s  points  of  view.  The  language  is  not  so 
startling  as  it  sounds — sometimes  old-time  religious  teachers 
have  used  it,  though  from  another  point  of  view;  and  even  in 
Nietzsche’s  mouth  it  is  not  without  a touch  of  religious  mean- 
ing, since  his  thought  is  that  morality  covers  only  the  lower 
ranges  of  man’s  life  and  that  there  are  higher!  With  questions 
of  morality  and  immorality,  we  do  not  even  touch,  he  holds,  the 
higher  value  of  man,  which  is  altogether  independent  of  social 
utility — a man  may  have  it,  though  there  is  no  one  to  whom  he 
can  be  useful ; indeed,  one  may  be  injurious  to  others  and  yet 
have  it.  “A  man  with  a taste  of  his  own,  shut  and  hidden  by 
his  solitude,  incommunicable,  uncommunicative — an  incalcula- 
ble man,  hence  a man  of  a higher,  in  any  case  a different  species : 
how  are  you  going  to  measure  him,  since  you  cannot  know, 
cannot  compare  him?”  Moral  preoccupation  then  puts  one  low 
in  the  order  of  rank,  since  it  shows  that  one  lacks  the  instinct 
for  separate  right,  the  a parte,  the  sense  of  freedom  of  creative 
natures,  of  “children  of  God”  (or  the  Devil). 

To  mention  one  or  two  details,  the  criticism  undermines  the 
ordinary  idea  of  conscience.  Conscience  is  a social  product, 
and  may  vary  as  social  standards  vary.  Yes,  as  a late  result 
of  social  evolution,  there  may  be  an  individual  conscience  against 
social  standards.  But  conscience  of  itself  is  no  standard  at  all. 
The  notion  is  also  undermined  that  evil  is  to  be  stamped  out  in 
the  world,  that  only  the  good  has  a rightful  place  there.  The 
total  necessities  of  the  world,  i.e.,  of  progress  in  it,  require  good 
and  evil  (understanding  by  “good”  the  friendly,  preservative 
impulses,  and  by  “evil”  the  destructive  ones).  The  criticism 
still  further  undermines  the  idea  that  moral  acts  are  of  a pe- 
culiar kind,  i.e.,  free  and  unegoistic.  There  is  an  absolute 
homogeneity  in  all  happening;  there  are  no  moral  phenomena, 
but  only  a moral  interpretation  of  phenomena.  As  the  per- 
spective, the  interests  differ,  so  do  the  moralities.™  A curious 

So  I interpret  the  close  of  § 198,  WerJce,  XI,  240. 

Will  to  Power,  §§  877-9;  Werke,  XI,  248-50. 

From  this  point  of  view  Nietzsche  speaks  of  morality  as  sign- 


NET  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRITICISM 


327 


incident  of  the  criticism  is  the  discovery  that  the  actual  empire 
of  virtue  is  not  always  secured  by  virtuous  means — that  is,  that 
false  assumption,  defamation,  and  deception  contribute  to  the 
result.^  A virtue  comes  to  power,  Nietzsche  observes,  much  as 
a political  party  does,  by  misrepresenting,  casting  suspicion 
upon,  undermining  the  opposition,  i.e.,  contrasted  virtues  al- 
ready in  power;  it  gives  them  other  names  [one  thinks  of  how 
missionary  religions  have  sometimes  turned  the  native  Gods  of 
a country  into  devils],  systematically  persecutes  and  derides 
them.®^  An  instance  is  the  way  in  which  Christian  ideals 
managed  to  triumph  over  the  ancient  ideals.®* 

Ill 

What  is  left  of  morality,  after  the  criticism?  In  speaking 
once  of  modern  tendencies  generally,  Nietzsche  observes  that 
traditional  morality  suffers,  but  not  necessarily  single  virtues, 
like  self-control  and  justice — for  freedom  may  spontaneously 
lead  to  them  and  hold  them  useful.®®  He  by  no  means  denies 
that  many  actions  called  unmoral  are  to  be  avoided  and  striven 
against,  and  that  many  called  moral  are  to  be  done  and  fur- 
thered— but  for  other  reasons  than  heretofore.®^  Utilitarians, 
eestheticians,  friends  of  knowledge,  and  idealists  may  make  the 
same  demands  which  morality  makes,  so  that  its  self-destruction 
need  not  practically  change  matters.®®  He  once  attempts  a kind 
of  balancing  of  morality:  he  finds  it  harmful  in  certain  ways, 
useful  in  others.  It  is  harmful,  for  instance,  in  hindering  the 
enjoyment  of  life,  and  thankfulness  to  life ; in  hindering  the 
beautifying  and  ennobling  of  life;  in  hindering  the  knowledge 
of  life,  and  also  the  unfolding  of  life,  i.e.,  so  far  as  it  seeks  to 
set  the  highest  forms  of  life  at  variance  with  themselves.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  it  is  useful  as  a preservative  principle  of 
social  wholes  and  a means  of  restraining  individual  members — 

language,  symptomatology,  and  so  far  invaluable  for  the  understanding  of 
man  ( Twilight  etc.,  vii,  § 1 ) . 

Will  to  Power,  §§  266,  305;  cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 97. 

Will  to  Power,  §311;  cf.  310. 

°°  Cf.  a passage  like  Werke,  XII,  171,  § 354. 

““  Ihid.,  XIII,  181-2,  § 413. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 103. 

“ Werke,  XII,  83-5.  Cf.  Kurt  Breysig’s  remarks,  Jahriuch  fur  Gesetm- 
gelung,  xx  (1896),  pp.  10,  II. 


328 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


here  useful  for  the  “instruroent” ; as  a preservative  principle 
against  the  peril  of  the  passions — here  useful  for  the  “aver- 
age”; as  a preservative  principle  against  the  life-destroying 
effects  of  deep  want  and  misery — here  useful  for  the  “suffer- 
ing”; as  a counter-principle  against  fearful  explosion  on  the 
part  of  the  powerful — here  useful  for  the  “humble.”®^  He 
notes  an  experience  like  this : “ I said  to  myself  today,  ‘ 0 that 
is  a good  man’!  I had  a feeling  as  if  I had  in  my  hand  a 
beautiful,  ripe,  perfect  apple  with  smooth  skin:  a feeling  of 
tenderness,  as  of  being  drawn  to  him;  a feeling  of  security,  as 
if  I might  repose  near  him  as  under  a tree ; a feeling  of  rever- 
ence, as  if  I were  in  presence  of  an  object  to  be  touched  only 
with  the  purest  hands;  a feeling  of  being  satisfied,  as  if  at  one 
stroke  I were  released  from  discontent.  That  is,  to  the  moral 
judgment  ‘good,’  there  corresponded  a state  in  me  arising  as 
I thought  of  a certain  man.  It  is  the  same  as  when  I call  a 
stone  ‘hard.’”™  Surely  one  who  could  speak  in  this  way 
cannot  be  taxed  with  insensibility  to  goodness.  It  is  true  that 
after  a similar  picture  in  another  place,  he  asks,  “Why  should 
this  undangerous  man  who  affects  us  pleasantly,  be  of  more 
worth  to  us  than  a dangerous,  impenetrable,  unreckonable  man 
who  forces  us  to  be  on  our  guard?  Our  pleasant  feeling  proves 
nothing  ’ ’ — but  the  sensibility  to  goodness,  the  sense  of  its 
beauty,  is  none  the  less  real.  There  is  the  same  implication  of 
a due  valuation  of  contrasted  things  in  another  remark:  “I  do 
not  wish  to  undervalue  the  amiable  virtues;  but  greatness  of 
soul  is  not  compatible  with  them.  Also  in  the  fine  arts,  the 
great  style  excludes  the  pleasing.  ’ ’ ™ The  amiable  virtues  are 
not  the  highest,  but  they  have  their  place.  So  with  another 
remark:  “Beyond  good  and  evil  [this  of  himself  and  his  kind,] 
— but  [in  the  group]  we  demand  the  unconditional  holding 
sacred  of  group-morality  [the  supreme  categories  of  which  are 
“good  and  evil”].™  That  is,  “good  and  evil,”  though  not  the 
highest  categories,  are  valid,  unconditionally  valid,  in  large 

Will  to  Power,  § 266. 

Werke,  XIII,  181-2,  § 413. 

” Ibid.,  XIV,  79,  § 155. 

” Will  to  Power,  § 1040. 

Ibid.,  §132.  Cf.  § 287  (“the  point  of  view — Sinn — of  the  group 
shall  rule  in  tlie  group,  but  not  beyond”). 


NET  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRITICISM 


329 


realms  of  human  life.  So  he  calls  it  well  to  take  “right,” 
“wrong,”  etc.,  in  a definite,  narrow,  “bourgeois”  sense,  as  in 
the  saying  ‘ ‘ do  right  and  fear  no  one  ’ ’ : that  is,  to  do  one ’s  duty 
according  to  the  rough,  definite  scheme,  by  following  which  a 
community  maintains  itself — and  he  charges  us  not  to  think 
lightly  of  what  two  thousand  years  of  moral  training  have  bred 
in  our  mind ! Although  morality  is  now  oppressive,  i.e.,  to 
those  of  his  type,  he  expresses  the  “deepest  gratitude  for  the 
service  it  has  hitherto  rendered”;  it  has  itself  bred  the  force 
that  now  drives  us  to  venture  on  the  untried  — indeed,  we 
need  very  much  morality  to  be  immoral  in  this  fine  way.^® 
That  Nietzsche  means  to  preserve  something  of  the  subtle  spirit 
of  the  old  morality,  we  shall  see  still  more  clearly  in  the  ensuing 
chapters. 

Once  we  have  a list  of  what  he  deems  the  four  principal 
virtues — they  are  courage,  insight,  sympathy,  solitude.  Other 
formulations  are:  honesty,  courage,  generosity,  courtesy;  hon- 
esty, courage,  justice,  love.”  I have  already  cited  what  he  says 
of  a “broken  word.”™  There  are  actions  we  cannot  permit  to 
ourselves,  he  declares,  even  as  means  to  the  highest  ends,  e.g., 
betraying  a friend;  better  perish  and  hope  that  there  will  be 
more  favorable  conditions  for  accomplishing  the  ends.™  He 
comments  on  the  shameless  readiness  of  the  ancient  Greek  no- 
bles to  break  their  word.®”  Though  he  sees  the  place  of  destruc- 
tion, malice  and  hatred  in  the  world,  as  well  as  of  conservation 
and  love,  the  highest  thing  to  him  is  love — at  least  the  highest 
love,  the  “great  love”;  it  is  this  indeed  that  is  the  final  sanction 
of  war  and  inequality  and  all  the  successive  stages  and  bridges 
of  advancing  life.®^  Justice  stands  out  the  higher  to  him  as  it 
is  differentiated  from  revenge.  At  times  he  may  seem  to  justify 

Ibid.,  § 267.  Cf.  the  relative  justification  of  the  morality  of  the 
old  Greek  cities,  as  against  the  abstractions,  universalizations,  of  Socrates 
and  Plato,  ibid.,  §§  428-9. 

Ibid.,  §§  404-5.  Cf.  as  to  the  indispensableness  of  morality  in  man’s 
early  contest  with  nature  and  wild  animals,  § 403. 

” Ibid.,  § 273. 

''''Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 284;  Dawn  of  Day,  § 556;  Werke,  XIV, 

312. 

See  ante,  p.  285,  footnote  35. 

Werke,  XIII,  196-7,  § 433. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 199;  cf.  § 165. 

Zarathustra,  II,  vii;  cf.  Ill,  vii  (Zarathustra  takes  to  task  one 
who  despises  great  cities  and  everything  in  them,  saying  that  one’s  con- 


330 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


injustice,  but  if  we  notice  carefully,  we  find  that  it  is  injury  he 
has  in  mind,*^  injury  which  is  so  often  called  injustice,  but  is 
only  really  unjust  when  committed  against  a promise  or  under- 
standing. I do  not  remember  a single  case  in  which  he  defends 
injustice  proper,®^  Over  against  the  fact  that  so  many  great 
men  have  been  unjust,  he  says,  “let  us  be  just”  and  perhaps 
admit  that  the  great  were  as  just  as  their  insight,  their  time, 
their  education,  their  opponents  permitted — either  this,  or  else 
that  they  were  not  great.®^®  It  is  also  a very  high,  if  not  an 
absolute  place,  which  Nietzsche  gives  to  honesty  with  oneself — 
something  which  does  not  appear,  he  remarks,  among  the 
Socratic  or  the  Christian  virtues.  He  honors  it  in  the  scholar; 
genius  itself  does  not  make  up  for  the  lack  of  it.®®  It  even  has 
a field  for  exercise  in  sense-perceptions;  e.g.,  “it  is  easier  for  our 
eye  on  a given  stimulus  to  produce  an  image  that  has  often 
been  produced  before,  than  to  hold  fast  what  is  distinctive 
and  new  in  the  impression:  the  latter  requires  more  force, 
more  ‘morality.’  ”®®  With  this  and  similar  things  in  mind 
he  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  there  are  no  other  than  moral 
experiences,  intellectuality  itself  being  an  outcome  of  moral 
qualities.®^  Is  there  not,  he  asks,  a moral  way  and  an  immoral 
way  of  making  a judgment — even  in  saying  “so  and  so  is 
right”?®®  Learning  to  distinguish  more  sharply  what  is  real 
in  others,  in  ourselves,  and  in  nature,  is  a part  of  progress  in 
morals.®®  Indeed,  as  if  with  a half-rueful  memory  of  all  he 
had  had  to  part  with,  he  speaks  of  honesty  as  the  sole 
virtue  which  survives  to  him.®®  “What  does  it  mean,  then,  to 
be  upright  in  intellectual  things?  To  be  on  one’s  guard  against 
one’s  heart,  to  despise  ‘beautiful  feelings,’  to  make  a matter  of 
conscience  of  every  yes  and  no.  ’ ’ ®^  The  general  idea  of  duty 

tempt  should  spring  from  love  and  not  be  the  croaking  of  a frog  in  the 
swamp ) . 

Cf.  Joyful  Science,  § 267;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 258;  Will  to 
Power,  §§  352,  965,  968. 

Unless  Werke,  XI,  250,  § 218,  is  so  construed. 

Werke,  XII,  135-6,  § 262. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 456;  Joyful  Science,  § 366. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 192. 

Joyful  Science,  § 114;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §219. 

Joyful  Science,  § 335. 

Werke,  XII,  129,  § 249. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 227. 

*'  The  Antichristian,  § 50. 


NET  RESULTS  OF  THE  CRITICISM 


331 


also  remains.  Many  “duties”  are  questioned,  and  the  old 
absolutist  conception  of  duty  disappears — it  must  be  with  this 
absolutist  understanding  of  the  word  that  he  says  he  had  never 
met  a man  of  parts  who  was  not  ready  to  admit  that  he  had 
lost  the  sense  of  duty  or  had  never  possessed  it.®^  All  the  same, 
the  superior  man,  he  tells  us,  ranks  his  privileges  and  the 
exercise  of  them  among  his  “duties,”  and  if  one  of  this  type 
handles  average  men  with  tenderer  fingers  than  he  does  him- 
self and  those  like  him,  it  is  not  mere  politeness  of  the  heart — 
“it  is  simply  his  duty.”®^  As  already  noted,  even  his  “im- 
moralists”  are  “men  of  duty.”®^  Nietzsche’s  thought  is  evi- 
dently that  men  may  place  duties  on  themselves,  that  will  in 
man  as  well  as  in  God,  in  the  individual  as  well  as  in  society, 
may  generate  duty — but  of  this  more  hereafter.  Even  piety 
does  not  altogether  disappear.  A man  of  the  old  religious  type 
says  to  Zarathustra,  “Thou  art  more  pious  than  thou  thinkest 
with  such  unbelief!  Some  God  converted  thee  to  thy  godless- 
ness. Is  it  not  your  piety  itself  that  no  longer  allows  you  to 
believe  in  a God  ? ” ®®  And  it  is  always,  I may  add,  with  rever- 
ence that  Nietzsche  uses  the  word  “divine.”®®  We  are  then 
not  unprepared  for  something  'more  than  negation  in  Nietz- 
sche’s total  attitude  to  morality. 

” Werke,  XIV,  209,  § 419. 

Beyond  Qood  and  Evil,  § 272;  The  Antichristian,  §67. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 226. 

" Zarathustra,  IV,  vi. 

‘'®  Cf.  Ihid.,  II,  vii;  III,  iv;  Will  to  Power,  §§304,  686. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 


MORAL  CONSTRUCTION.  THE  MORAL  AIM  PROPOSED  BY 

NIETZSCHE  ^ 

I 

In  passing  to  Nietzsche’s  construction  in  morality  I may  say 
at  the  outset  that  it  is  a mistake  to  suppose  that  he  was  by 
temperament  and  instinct  a radical — traces  of  a certain  natural 
conservatism  are  plainly  visible  in  his  writings.  He  mentions 
with  pride  that  he  came  of  a line  of  Protestant  pastors,^  and 
it  is  evident  that  it  was  intellectual  necessity  more  than  any- 
thing else  that  led  to  his  departure  from  the  ancient  ways,  and 
that  even  in  his  mental  revolutions  he  kept  something  of  the 
old  spirit.  He  once  speaks  of  conscientiousness  in  small  things, 
the  self-control  of  the  religious  man,  as  a preparatory  school 
for  the  scientific  character.^  He  says  in  so  many  words,  “We 
will  be  heirs  of  all  the  morality  that  has  gone  before  and  not 
start  de  novo.  Our  whole  procedure  is  only  morality  turning 
against  its  previous  form.”*  If  he  speaks  of  an  overcoming 
of  morality,  it  is  a self-overcoming,®  i.e.,  not  by  a foreign  and 
hostile  party.  “Why  do  I love  free  thinking?  As  the  last 
consequence  of  previous  morality” — and  he  goes  on  to  indicate 
how  it  comes  from  justice,  courage,  honesty,  loving  disposition 
to  all.®  The  demand  for  a wherefore,  a critique  of  morality,  is 
a form  of  morality,  the  most  sublimated  kind  of  it.^  In  reflect- 
ing over  the  struggles  and  changes  he  had  gone  through,  he 
says,  “at  last  I discovered  in  the  whole  process  living  morality, 
driving  force — I had  only  imagined  that  I was  beyond  good  and 

‘ The  siibstance  of  this  and  the  following  chapters  appeared  in  The 
International  Journal  of  Ethics,  January  and  April,  1915. 

» Werlce,  XIV,  358,  § 223. 

* Will  to  Power,  § 469. 

‘ Werlce,  XIII,  125,  § 282 ; cf . Dolson  on  this  point,  op.  cit.,  p.  63. 

“ Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 32. 

» Werlce,  XIII,  124,  § 281. 

Will  to  Power,  §§  399,  404. 


332 


THE  MORAL  AIM  PROPOSED  BY  NIETZSCHE  333 


evil”®  (here  using  the  latter  phrase  broadly),  or,  as  he  puts  it 
in  paradoxical  form,  “I  had  to  dissolve  {aufheben)  morality, 
in  order  to  put  my  moral  will  through.  ” ® • 

Moreover,  criticism  had  revealed  to  him  the  fact  of  varying 
types  of  morality,  and  the  question  arose,  might  there  not  be 
still  other  and  perhaps  higher  types  ? Of  course,  this  pre- 

supposes a generic  idea  of  morality,  more  or  less  separable  from 
special  instances.  Nietzsche  does  not  make  a formal  definition, 
but  we  gather  from  a variety  of  direct  or  incidental  references 
what  he  thought  was  involved.  In  the  generic  sense,  a morality 
is  a set  of  valuations  resting  on  supposed  conditions  of  exist- 
ence of  some  kind."  Further,  it  is  something  regulating,  com- 
manding, so  that  it  introduces  order  into  life : some  things  may 
be  done,  others  may  not  be  done — discipline,  strictness  hence 
arising.'®  On  the  subjective  side,  its  root  is  reverence,  the  only 
properly  moral  motive.'®  As  action,  it  is  free  (not  in  the  inde- 
terminist  sense,  but  in  the  sense  of  voluntary,  not  forced).'^ 
Nietzsche  sometimes  criticises  ideals,  but  when  he  does  so,  he 
has  in  mind  mere  abstract  desirabilities,  fancy  pictures  unre- 
lated to  reality.'®  A morality,  as  he  understands  the  term, 
must  be  a really  possible  ideal  of  real  beings — something  then 
related  to  the  earth  and  actual  men.'®  Further,  although  he 
objects  to  praising  and  blaming  with  their  ordinary  implica- 
tions of  responsibility  and  free-will,  he  none  the  less  recognizes 
things  to  honor  and  things  to  despise,'®  things  to  further  and 
things  to  oppose'® — so  that  a basis  for  moral  discriminations 

» Werke,  XIV,  312,  § 144. 

^Ihid.,  XIII,  176,  § 404;  cf.  XIV,  351-2,  §212;  308-9,  §141. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 202. 

” Conditions  for  passing  from  one  form  of  existence  into  another 
included  (cf.  Werke,  XIV,  313,  § 144;  XIII,  139,  § 322).  As  to  the  special 
conditions  of  existence  of  the  philosopher,  see  Genealogy  etc..  Ill,  § 8. 

Werke,  XIII,  216,  § 510;  Will  to  Power,  § 966  (cf.  the  use  of  “ex- 
treme immorality”  in  § 246)  ; ihid.,  §§  914,  981;  Werke,  XI,  239,  § 197. 

“ So  only  can  I interpret  Dawn  of  Day,  § 97 ; cf.  Joyful  Science,  § 335; 
Werke,  XIII,  150,  § 355;  190,  §421. 

Werke,  XIII,  124,  § 280. 

Will  to  Poioer,  §§  330,  709;  Twilight  etc.,  ix,  §32. 

Cf.  Zarathustra,  I,  iii ; also  IV,  xviii,  §2  (“We  have  no  desire  to 
go  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  we  are  men  and  desire  a kingdom  of  the 
earth  ” ) . 

” Numberless  citations  might  be  given;  even  praising  and  blaming 
are  sometimes  viewed  from  another  angle  and  to  this  extent  justified  (see 
Werke,  XIII,  197-8,  § 435). 

Cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 103;  Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 17. 


334 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


still  remains.  All  this  in  general.  And  now  as  to  the  special 
type  of  morality  which  he  proposes. 

II 

It  is  conceivable,  he  says,  that  the  existence  of  man  should 
be  so  precarious  on  the  earth,  that  any  rules  and  any  illusions 
would  be  justified  by  which  he  was  kept  alive — the  strictest  dis- 
cipline might  be  necessary.  In  this  way  primitive  types  of 
morality  were  justified,  even  if  they  covered  much  that  seems 
to  us  superfiuous  or  absurd — man  could  live  only  in  and  by 
society,  and  the  social  strait-jacket  was  imperative.  Now, 
however,  human  existence  has  become  relatively  secure.  Man 
abounds,  perhaps  superabounds.  While  under  the  early  situa- 
tion morality  was  not  a matter  of  choice,  now  a certain  freedom 
arises:  we  can  more  or  less  choose  our  ends,  aiming  in  this  or 
that  direction  as  our  imagination  or  taste  or  reason  dictates.^® 

It  is  under  such  a presupposition  that  Nietzsche  proposes 
his  moral  aim.  The  problem  appears  to  him  in  its  most  general 
form  like  this : Here  within  what  we  call  humanity  is  an  im- 
mense mass  of  force,  accumulated  and  kept  from  wasting  and 
self-destruction  in  no  small  measure  by  the  influence  of  past 
morality — what  shall  be  done  with  it,  what  impress  shall  be 
put  upon  it,  what  direction  shall  it  take?  Shall  we  let  it  drift? 
Shall  our  policy  in  relation  to  it  be  laisser  alter,  laisser  passer — 
trusting  to  Providence  or  to  destiny?  Nietzsche  thinks  that 
confidences  like  these  have  an  uncertain  foundation  and  that 
humanity  has  already  drifted  too  long.  We  should  rather,  he 
urges,  seek  to  put  an  end  to  the  horrible  rule  of  folly  and 
chance,  hitherto  called  “history,”  for  things  do  go  to  a fearful 
extent  by  accident  in  this  world,  and  the  call  for  foresight,  for 
reason,  is  great.®®  “The  immense  amount  of  accident,  contra- 
diction, disharmony,  stupidity,  in  the  present  human  world 
points  to  the  future”;  this  is  its  “field  of  labor,  where  it  can 
create,  organize,  and  harmonize.”®^  A goal  does  not  exist  now, 
the  ideals  of  men  contradict  one  another;  they  arose  in  far 

” Cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  260-1,  05.3. 

'^'‘Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 203;  cf.  Zarathustra,  I,  iii;  Werlce,  XIV, 
337,  § 186;  cf.  33.5,  § 178. 

Werlce,  XIII,  362-3,  § 895;  cf.  Zarathustra,  I,  xxii,  §2;  II,  xx; 
III,  xii,  § 3;  IV,  xvi,  § 2. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  PROPOSED  BY  NIETZSCHE  335 


narrower  relations  and  were  born  of  numberless  errors.^ 
Moreover,  it  is  an  aim  for  the  totality  of  humanity  that  is 
wanted;  it  is  humanity  as  a whole  that  needs  to  be  organized. 
What  is  the  ideal  that  may  make  an  aim,  a goal,  and  a principle 
of  organization  ? ^ 

Before  giving  Nietzsche’s  actual  answer  to  this  question, 
a word  may  perhaps  properly  be  said  as  to  the  general  logic 
of  his  procedure.  In  the  first  place,  he  remembers  that  it  is  an 
interregnum  in  which  we  live — hence  we  cannot  be  dogmatic, 
can  only  propose;  “we  are  experiments,  we  wish  to  be.”^^  He 
is  simply  convinced  in  general  that  the  future  (future  possi- 
bilities) must  regulate  our  valuations — that  we  cannot  seek  the 
laws  of  our  actions  behind  us?^  Secondly,  the  end  or  goal  is 
not  given  to  us.  There  is  no  absolute  command,  saying  “so  and 
so  thou  must  choose,  ’ ’ there  is  none  from  metaphysics  and  there 
is  none  from  science;  science  indicates  the  flow  of  things,  but 
not  the  goal.^  Once  with  an  ideal,  science  may  tell  us  how  to 
reach  it;  science  also  gives  us  presuppositions  (the  general  na- 
ture of  existence)  with  which  an  ideal  must  correspond — but  it 
does  not  fix  the  ideal  itself.^  Herbert  Spencer’s  picture  of 
the  future,  for  instance,  is  not  a scientific  necessity,  it  simply 
indicates  a wish  born  of  present  ideals.^*  Indeed,  thirdly,  this 
realm  of  ends  is  a field  where  the  ordinary  categories  of  true 
and  false  do  not  apply.  In  the  final  analysis,  an  end  or  goal 
or  ideal  is  not  a reality,  an  object  to  which  thought  must  con- 
form, but  a something  projected  by  the  mind  and  set  (made 
objective)  by  the  will.  We  mahe  ends,  goals,  ideals,  they  are 
a proof  of  our  creative  power.  When  we  have  set  them,  there 
are  real  conditions  of  attaining  them,  and  these  we  do  not 
make ; we  have  to  discover  them,  here  we  are  bound,  and  science 
“ WerJce,  XIV,  335,  § 178. 

Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 880  (a  substitute  for  morality  through  will  to 
our  end,  and  hence  to  the  necessary  means ) . 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 453;  cf.  § 164.  Nietzsche  regards  past  moralities  as 
really  built  on  hypothesis  more  or  less;  but  as  man’s  mind  was  too  weak 
and  unsure  of  itself  to  take  an  hypothesis  as  such  and  at  the  same  time 
make  it  regulative,  faith  (Glaube)  was  necessary  (Werke,  XIII,  139, 
§ 321). 

Will  to  Power,  § 1000;  cf.  Werke,  XIII,  342,  § 984. 

Werke,  XIV,  320,  § 155;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 583;  Werke,  XII,  357, 

§ 672. 

Daton  of  Day,  § 453;  Werke,  XII,  357,  § 672. 

=«  Werke,  XIII,  80,  § 155. 


336 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


is  supreme.  But  the  ends  do  not  exist  save  as  we  posit  them: 
they  are  beyond  questions  of  true  and  false.®  Here  the  extraor- 
dinary assassin-motto  holds:  “Nothing  is  true,  everything  is 
permitted.”®  But,  fourthly,  we  do  not  need  to  have  an  end 
given  us  (by  God  or  nature)  ; we  have  creative  power  and  can 
make  one  ourselves.  I say  “can,”  for  it  is  at  last  a question  of 
strength ; perhaps  some  cannot.  Zarathustra  draws  a picture 
of  the  history  of  man’s  mind;  there  are  three  stages — it  is  in 
turn  a camel,  a lion,  and  a child..  The  camel  carries,  bears  what 
is  heavy,  dutifully  submits,  origin^ps^^othihg,  endures  all 
things.  The  lion  wants  freedom,  gets  it,  does  away  with  all 
masters,  still  is  not  able  to  create.  The  child,  however,  can ; 
it  arises  in  innocence  and  oblivion  of  the  past,  is  a new  begin- 
ning, a first  motion,  a wheel  turning  of  its  own  energy;  the 
child  plays,  and  is  equal  to  the  play  of  creation.  The  camel 
represents  the  old  morality,  useful,  but  limited  in  power;  the 
lion  the  critical,  destructive  spirit,  also  useful,  but  limited  in 
strength;  the  child  positive  creation.  Man’s  mind  in  its  historic 
course  passes  through  these  stages;  and  now  it  is  the  age  of 
the  child.^^  Fifthly,  as  to  how  the  mind  shall  create,  what  it 
shall  produce,  there  is  in  the  nature  of  the  case  no  outside  law. 
It  is  a matter  of  choice,  of  will  absolutely,  not  of  will  as  opposed 
to  reason,  for  reason  makes  no  deliverances  on  a supreme  ques- 
tion like  this  [reason  is  the  faculty  of  reasonings,  and  proceeds 
from  a starting-point  which  it  presupposes,  i.e.,  finds,  but  does 
not  create].  In  a moral  aim,  one  puts  forth  one’s  supreme  choice 
— there  is  no  other  basis  than  this  voluntaristic  and  aesthetic 
one.  Nietzsche  sometimes  uses  this  word,  “aesthetic,”  so  often 
repugnant  to  moral  thinkers.®  His  meaning  becomes  clear  in 
illustrations  he  uses.  For  example,  we  commonly  take  for 

Cf.  The  Antichristian,  §55  (“There  are  questions  where  decision 
as  to  truth  and  untruth  is  not  possible  for  man;  all  supreme  questions, 
all  ultimate  problems  of  value  are  beyond  human  reason”). 

'‘’‘Zarathustra,  IV,  ix;  Genealogy  etc..  Ill,  §24. 

Zarathustra,  I,  i.  Cf.  the  high  view  of  man  as  creator  as  well  as 
creature  in  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 225. 

Cf.  Mixed  Opinons  etc.,  § 329;  Dawn  of  Day,'%  114;  Joyful  Science, 
§§  3,  13,  77,  290,  294;  Zarathustra,  III,  iv;  xii,  §2;  IV,  vi;  Beyond  Good 
and  Evil,  § 205;  Werlce,  XII,  64,  §116;  95-6,  §193;  XIII,  154,  § 363. 
Morality  being  a personal  choice  and  the  ultimate  moral  valuation  deter- 
mining the  character  of  one’s  philosophy,  every  great  philosophy  has  been 
a self-confession  of  its  author,  a sort  of  involuntary  and  unconscious 
mimoires  ( Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 6 ) . 


THE  MORAL  AIM  PROPOSED  BY  NIETZSCHE  337 


granted  that  we  should  do  this  and  that,  since  otherwise  our 
life  would  be  in  danger.  But  suppose  a man  is  ready,  for  the 
sake  of  honor  or  knowledge  or  some  supreme  passion,  to  risk  his 
life  or  to  throw  it  away,  how  shall  we  argue  with  him,  what 
common  premise  have  we  to  start  from,  since  we  take  life  as 
supreme  and  he  something  else?  Or,  again,  we  often  say  that 
this  or  that  is  good,  because  posterity  and  the  preservation  of 
the  race  depend  on  it.  But  this  presupposes  that  we  will  pos- 
terity and  the  preservation  of  the  race.  Suppose  that  some 
one  does  not,  the  instinct  and  demand  that  is  so  strong  in  most 
of  us  being  weak  or  lacking  (Nietzsche  thinks  that  it  is  not 
necessary) — what  then?  What  will  reasoning  help  in  such  cir- 
cumstances ? Or,  supposing  that  we  are  all  agreed  that  exist- 
ence is  desirable,  what  kind  of  existence  shall  it  be?  Some 
may  prefer  the  greatest  possible  amount  of  existence,  at  least 
of  comfortable,  happy  existence.  Others  may  prefer  the  highest 
type  of  existence,  even  if  small  in  amount,  or  if  the  comfort 
and  happiness  of  the  mass  would  have  to  be  sacrificed  some- 
what to  attain  it.  How  is  a decision  to  be  reached?  There 
would  appear  to  be  a difference  of  ultimate  ideals,  last  choices. 
That  the  welfare  of  the  mass  is  in  itself  the  more  valuable  end 
is  a naivete  which  Nietzsche  leaves  to  the  English  biologists.^ 
In  truth,  there  is  no  value  in  itself,  all  values  are  posited,  set, 
and  relative  to  those  who  posit  them.  Instead  of  a rationale 
(i.e.,  rational  deduction)  of  supreme  ideals,  it  is  possible  only 
to  give  a psychology  of  them — that  is,  to  indicate  how  as  matter 
of  fact  they  arise:  and  this  is  the  sixth  point.  Ideals,  says 
Nietzsche,  [though  he  is  speaking  here  of  his  own  personal  ideals, 
I think  he  would  say  that  the  truth  is  general]  are  the  anticipa- 
tory hopes,  i.e.,  hoped-for  satisfactions  of  our  impulses ; as  surely 
as  we  have  impulses,  so  inevitably  do  they  work  on  our  fancy 
to  produce  a scheme  of  what  we  [or  things]  should  be,  to  satisfy 
them — this  is  what  idealizing  means.  Even  the  rascal  has  his 
ideal,  though  it  may  not  be  edifying  to  us.^^  Nietzsche  does  not 
blink  the  fact  that  ideals,  and  ideals  of  honest  people,  may 
vary,  that  there  is  no  one  of  which  we  can  say  with  logical 

= ^ Werke,  XII,  220,  § 155. 

“Note  at  the  end  of  Genealogy  etc.,  I. 

“ Werke,  XI,  390,  § 613. 


338 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


honesty  (men  being  as  they  are  today)  that  it  is  ihe  ideal. 
Espeeially  at  the  present  are  differenees  rife.^®  Even  when 
men  agree  in  calling  certain  things  good,  they  differ  as  to  which 
are  better  and  the  best — that  is,  the  order  of  rank  {Bangord- 
nung)  is  different.®^  The  very  concepts  of  things — of  health, 
for  instance — differ.  To  a Schopenhauerian  or  Buddhist,  a 
strong  lusty  man,  eager  for  life  and  power,  is  not  in  a state  of 
health  at  all ; while  from  another  point  of  view,  it  is  the  Scho- 
penhauerian or  Buddhist,  craving  for  the  extinguishment  of  his 
individuality,  who  is  sick.®®  It  is  the  final  ruling  impulse  in 
every  case  that  fixes  the  ideal,  and  even  gives  names  to  things 
corresponding  to  its  valuations. 

The  practical  conclusion  of  all  this  is  that  in  his  own  ease 
Nietzsche,  who  most  surely  has  an  ideal,  does  not  make  any 
pretensions  of  absolute  rationality  about  it  and  does  not  propose 
to  force  it  upon  any  one  else,  whether  by  arms  or  by  logic. 
He  simply  says  to  us,  “This  is  my  way;  what  is  yours?  The 
way  there  is  not.”  In  other  language,  “I  am  a law  only  for 
my  own  kind,  I am  no  law  for  all.”®®  Indeed,  having  in  mind 
the  native  differences  and  inequalities  of  men,  he  thinks  it  no 
special  distinction  to  have  an  ideal  that  everybody  shares  with 
us.  An  ideal  is  something  in  which  we  body  forth  our  very 
will  and  personality;  how  can  we  expect  that  all  others  will 
have  just  the  same,  unless  we  are  like  all  the  rest  and  have  no 
distinctive  being  of  our  own?’®  As  we  shall  see,  particular 
ideals  Nietzsche  expects  will  vary  more  or  less  among  different 
classes.  The  ideal  that  mankind  may  have  in  common  can  only 
be  very  general  and  one  that  for  many  will  perhaps  seem  far 
away. 

All  the  same,  ideals  may  be  recommended,  and  the  possibly 
universal  ones  to  all.  While  mankind  has  no  generally  recog- 
nized goal  at  present,  and  to  go  ahead  and  lay  down  moral 
rules  as  if  it  had,  is  unreason  and  trickery,  recommending  a 

••/bid,  371-2,  § 576;  cf.  196,  §102. 

•'  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 194. 

WerJce,  XII,  124-5,  § 244;  78,  § 150;  80,  § 155. 

Zarathustra,  III,  xi,  §2;  IV,  xii;  cf.  Joyful  Science,  §321;  Werke, 
XIII,  176,  § 404;  XI,  220-1,  §155  (“An  impulse  to  live  individually 
exists:  I think  in  its  service.  Others  who  do  not  have  the  impulse  cannot 
be  obligated  by  me”)- 

‘o  Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 349. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  PROPOSED  BY  NIETZSCHE  339 


goal  is  different,  for  if  it  pleased  mankind,  mankind  could 
adopt  it  and  give  itself  a corresponding  moral  law  of  its  own 
pleasure.^  And  despite  all  Nietzsche’s  concern  for  freedom, 
he  is  eager  to  recommend  his  own  ideal — eager  and,  one  might 
almost  say,  imperious.  The  higher  meaning  of  the  world’s 
spiritual  endeavor,  the  supreme  significance  of  the  striving  of 
the  highest  minds  is,  he  thinks,  to  find  the  thought  that  will 
stand  over  mankind  as  its  star.“  He  enters  the  lists — here  is 
the  practical  meaning  of  his  will  to  power. 

Yet,  though  Nietzsche  recognizes  this  voluntaristic  or 
Eesthetic  basis  of  the  moral  aim  he  proposes,  we  must  not  be  led 
to  think  that  there  is  any  lack  of  stringency,  whether  logical 
or  practical,  in  the  aim  when  once  accepted.  All  morality, 
Nietzsche’s  included,  involves  law  and  subordination.  We 
choose  the  ideal,  not  the  means  by  which  to  attain  it — these 
are  fixed  by  the  general  nature  of  things.  The  taste  that  is 
voluntary  is  only  the  supreme  taste,  not  the  lesser  ones.  If  we 
want  a strong  physical  organism,  what  we  like  or  dislike  at 
the  moment,  whether  as  to  exercise  or  to  diet,  may  count  for 
little — so  and  so  we  have  got  to  live.^^  It  is  the  same  with  a 
great  social  ideal;  if  we  will  the  end,  we  must  will  the  means, 
whether  they  strike  the  fancy  and  please  us  or  not.  Even  a 
musical  melody,  remarks  Nietzsche,  “has  laws  of  logic  which 
our  anarchists  would  cry  down  as  slavery.  ’ ’ Professor  Riehl 
cites  in  this  connection  Goethe’s  word  about  “exact  fancy,” 
the  fancy  of  the  classic  artist,  of  classic  art;  he  says  that  moral 
judgments,  even  taken  as  aesthetic,  remain  absolute  demands, 
whose  object  is  formed  by  generally  valid  ideas  of  value.^' 
Nietzsche  thinks  that  connecting  morals  with  art  in  general 
means  no  reproach,  I may  say  in  passing.  It  is  true  that  art 
has  as  a rule  looked  backward,  glorifying  the  past;  but  in  its 
essential  nature  it  is  simply  an  ideal-building  force,  a making 
visible  of  our  innermost  hopes  and  wishes.^®  From  this  point 

**  Daivn  of  Day,  § 108. 

Werke,  XII,  360,  § 679. 

Nietzsche  calls  it  the  greatest  error  to  think  that  taste  determines 
the  value  of  a food  or  an  action  (Werke,  XII,  78,  § 150).  Cf.  the  remarl 
about  “ actual  relevance  to  the  preservation  of  life,  strict  causality  ’■ 
(Werke,  XI,  204,  § 121). 

**  Letter  to  Krug,  Brief e,  I,  321. 

Op.  cit.,  pp.  130-1. 

Werke,  XIV,  355,  § 178. 


340 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


of  view,  morality  is  itself  a species  of  art.  But  it  is  a very 
particular  species,  since  while  it  starts  with  a picture,  it  pro- 
ceeds to  create  in  flesh  and  blood,  the  philosopher-artist  taking 
the  lead,  the  rest  of  us  being  fashioned  or  fashioning  ourselves 
according  to  the  requirements  of  the  ideal  projected.  So 
Goethe ’s  ‘ ‘ Prometheus  ’ ’ : 

“ Here  sit  I,  form  men 
After  my  image.”  ” 

Life  comes  thus  to  be  very  strictly  under  law,  and  obedience 
a part  of  the  nature  of  most  of  us.  “To  the  good  soldier  ‘Thou 
shalt’  sounds  pleasanter  than  ‘I  will.’  And  for  the  men 
of  the  future  whom  Nietzsche  anticipates,  there  will  be  some- 
thing a hundredfold  more  important  than  how  they  or  others 
feel  at  the  moment,  namely  an  aim  for  the  sake  of  which  they 
are  willing  to  suffer  everything,  run  every  risk,  and  saeriflee 
all  (themselves  and  others) — the  great  passion.^® 

Ill 

And  now  what  is  the  final  aim  which  Nietzsche  proposes? 
As  I have  already  stated  more  than  once  by  way  of  anticipa- 
tion, it  is  no  other  than  life,  and  particularly  the  highest 
ranges  of  life.  Man  is  higher  than  the  animal,  and  there  may 
be  something  higher  than  man,  i.e.,  than  man  as  we  ordinarily 
know  him.  The  instinct  for  something  perfect,  or  as  perfect 
as  the  conditions  of  existence  will  allow,  is,  I take  it,  the  bottom 
instinct,  the  ruling  impulse  in  Nietzsche.  Essentially  he  was 
a religious  man.  Perhaps  in  the  last  resort  we  should  not  call 
him  a moralist  in  the  ordinary  restricted  sense  of  that  term. 
As  I read  him,  deep  instincts  of  reverence  preponderate  in  him, 
instincts  that  have  their  ordinary  food  and  sustenance  in  the 
thought  of  God.  But  as  his  scientific  conscience  forbade  him 
that  belief,  the  instincts  were  driven  to  seek  other  satisfaction 
and  found  it  (measurably)  in  the  thought  of  the  possibilities  of 
mankind.  Very  far,  indeed,  was  he,  from  a Comtean  worship 

See  Meyer’s  fine  observations,  op.  cit.,  pp.  77-8. 

Zarathustra,  I,  x. 

Will  to.  Power,  § 26. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  PROPOSED  BY  NIETZSCHE  341 


of  humanity;  the  mass  of  men  excited  little  reverence,  rather 
pity  or  disdain,  at  best  moderate  respect  for  the  moderate  work 
they  do.  But  now  and  then  there  emerge  from  the  ordinary 
run  of  our  species  extraordinary  individuals,  and  the  thought 
of  them,  the  possibilities  they  suggested,  set  his  mind  on  fire. 
If  there  be  no  God,  he,  as  it  were,  said  to  himself,  may  there  not 
still  be  something  beyond  man?  From  our  human  stock,  may 
not  something  transcendent  arise?  It  is  in  the  light  of  such  a 
view  that  I interpret  a remark  to  the  effect  that  his  tendency 
as  a whole  was  not  to  morality,  and  that  from  an  essentially 
extra-moral  way  of  looking  at  things  he  was  led  to  the  con- 
sideration of  morality — from  a distance.™  The  distant  elevation 
on  which  he  stood  was  that  essentially  of  the  religious  nature. 
For  from  this  standpoint  something  great  belongs  to  the  fabric 
of  things,  something  awe-inspiring,  something  unreckonable, 
something  sovereign  and  clean  above  us,  and  the  world  and  life 
become  inevitably  flattened,  when  the  thought  of  it  is  lost.^^  It 
was  Nietzsche’s  experience,  and  is  the  secret  of  the  undertone 
of  melancholy  that  we  feel  in  him.  One  who  knew  him  inti- 
mately (at  least  for  a time)  thinks  that  his  history  turned  on 
this  loss  of  faith,  on  “emotion  over  the  death  of  God,”  and 
that  the  possibility  of  finding  a substitute  for  the  lost  God  be- 
came an  animating  thought  with  him.™  I^ter,  when_a,  read- 
justment  had  taken  place,  Nietzsche  uses  [makes  Zarathustra 
use]  this  significant  language : ‘ ‘ Once,  when  men  looked  on  the 
far-stretching  sea,  they  said  God ; but  I teach  you  to  say.  Super- 
man.”™ That  is,  the  epnc_eptions  are  in  a way  correlative.  The 
future  lords  of  the  earth,  he  says,  will  “replace  God,”  begetting 
in  those  whom  they  rule  a ‘ ‘ deep,  unconditional  confidence.  ’ ’ ™ 
Nietzsche’s  moral  aim  starts  with  a transcendent  conception  like 
this.  The  task  of  the  race  is  to  create  these  lords  or  Gods — if 

5 0 'Werke,  XIV,  74,  § 144. 

““  Cf.  passages  like  Human,  etc.,  § 223;  Joyful  Science,  § 125. 

Lou  Andreas-Salom#,  op.  cit.,  pp.  -38-9.  In  a similar  spirit  Nietzsche 
speaks  of  the  doctrine  of  eternal  recurrence  as  taking  the  place  of  meta- 
physics and  religion  ( Will  to  Power,  § 462 ) . 

Zarathustra,  II,  ii. 

^*Werke  (pocket  ed.),  VII,  486,  §36;  cf.  Zarathustra,  IV,  xiii,  §2 
( “ God  died : now  we  will  that  the  superman  live  ” ) ; also  I,  xxii, 
§3.  He  quotes  a passage  from  Plato’s  Theages:  “each  of  us  would  like 
if  possible  to  be  lord  of  all  men,  most  of  all  to  be  God,”  and  adds  “ this 
sentiment  must  arise  again  ” ( Will  to  Power,  § 958 ) . 


342 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


you  cannot  create  a God,  Zaratliustra  says,  stop  talking  of  one.®^ 
That  is,  the  morality  of  Nietzsche  is  a semi-religious  morality. 
To  this  extent,  he  belongs  in  a different  category  from  Utili- 
tarians and  others,  who,  taking  men  as  they  are,  simply  think 
of  a way  in  which  they  may  get  along  pleasantly  and  profitably 
together.^  He  rather  belongs  to  the  company  of  those,  or  of 
One,  who  said,  “be  ye  perfect,”  and  set  up  as  the  standard 
the  infinite  perfection  of  God.'^  “Let  the  future  and  the  fur- 
thest be  the  motive  of  thy  today.”  “Do  I counsel  you  to  love 
your  neighbor,  the  one  nearest  you?  I counsel  you  rather  to 
flee  the  nearest  and  love  the  furthest  human  being.  ” In  such 
sayings  the  spirit  of  the  man  and  the  final  principle  of  his 
morality  come  to  light.  Man  [as  he  exists]  is  something  to  be 
surpassed : that  is  his  starting-point.  It  is  not  a proposition 

that  can  be  proven,  nothing  that  can  be  deduced,  nothing  that 
can  be  scientifically  established;  naivetes  of  that  sort  he  leaves 
to  others : it  is  simply  his  choice,  the  outcome  of  his  ruling  im- 
pulse, which  is  to  see  the  great,  the  transcendent  in  the  world, 
so  far  as  the  conditions  of  existence  allow.'’  If  we  do  not  make 
such  a preliminary  choice  with  him,  his  practical  prescriptions 
will  have  little  meaning  to  us. 

In  a sense,  the  aim  might  be  called  cosmical,  i.e.,  the  world 
is  apparently  thought  of  as  pressing  to  a higher  realization  of 
its  potencies  through  us  in  this  way.  Nietzsche  says,  “We  are 
buds  on  one  tree — what  do  we  know  of  what  can  come  out  of 
us  in  the  interests  of  the  tree!  . . . No.  Beyond  ‘me’  and 
‘ thee  ’ ! To  feel  cosmically  1 ” 

I have  spoken  of  Nietzsche’s  instinct  for  the  perfect — how 


Zarathustra,  II,  ii.  Still  further,  “God  is  a conjecture;  but  what 
I wish  is  that  your  conjecturing  should  go  no  further  than  your  creative 
will.”  Again,  “ He  who  does  not  find  the  great  in  God  any  more  finds  it 
in  general  no  more — he  must  either  deny  or  create  it  ” ( Werke,  XII,  329, 
§ 536). 

Such  a view,  ever  asking  how  man  can  maintain  himself  best, 
longest,  most  agreeably,  is  what  makes  men  of  today  small  and  common 
(Zaratliustra,  IV,  xiii,  §3). 

” Zarathustra,  I,  xvi. 

Ibid.,  prelude,  §3.  Cf.  IV,  xiii,  §3  (“it  is  the  superman  whom  I 
have  at  heart — he  is  my  first  and  only,  and  not  man.  . . . Oh,  my 
brothers,  what  I can  love  in  man  is  that  he  is  a transition,  a passing 
away”)  ; also,  I,  x (“let  your  love  to  life  be  love  to  your  highest  hope; 
and  let  your  highest  hope  be  your  highest  thought  of  life”). 

Werke,  XII,  128-9,  § 248. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  PROPOSED  BY  NIETZSCHE  343 


real  it  was  comes  out  in  a variety  of  minor  indirect  ways. 
Zarathustra  gives  comfort  to  his  guest-disciples  in  the  thought 
of  the  little  good  perfect  things  already  in  the  world — put  them 
around  you,  he  says,  their  golden  ripeness  heals  the  heart;  the 
perfect  teaches  hope.®®  Nietzsche  knows  the  charm  of  the  im- 
perfect, but,  as  already  explained,  it  is  in  its  suggestions,  not 
for  itself.®^  Oddly  as  it  may  sound  in  these  secular  days,  he 
pronounces  the  love  of  man  “for  God’s  sake”  the  most  superior 
and  elevated  sentiment  which  mankind  has  hitherto  reached — a 
love  of  man,  without  this  thought  of  something  beyond  that 
hallows  it,  being  a more  or  less  stupid  and  brutish  thing.®^ 
“To  man  my  will  clings,  with  chains  I bind  myself  fast  to  man, 
because  so  I am  pulled  up  to  the  superman:  for  thither  moves 
my  other  will.”®®  “Grant  me  from  time  to  time  a glimpse  of 
something  complete,  finished,  happy,  mighty,  triumphant,  in 
which  there  is  still  something  of  fear,  a glimpse  of  a man  who 
justifies  mankind,  a complementary  and  redeeming  instance,  for 
whose  sake  we  can  hold  fast  our  faith  in  man!”®*  For  man  as 
he  is  is  not  a happy  throw  of  nature ’s  dice ; there  is  something 
fundamentally  wrong  {verfehltes)  with  him;  connecting  with 
the  old  religious  language,  Nietzsche  says  that  in  place  of  the 
sinfulness  we  must  substitute  the  general  ill-eonstitutedness 
(Missrathensein)  of  man.®®  He  is  tentative  material  merely; 
the  failures  preponderate;  broken  fragments,  ruins  {ein  Triim- 
merfeld)  are  what  we  see  about  us.®®  Hence  suffering  is  Nietz- 
sche’s main  feeling.®^  We  thirst,  he  says,  for  great  and  deep 
souls,  and  discover  at  best  a social  animal.®®  Only  a living 
habitual  sense  of  perfect  things  could  beget  a dissatisfaction 
like  this. 

The  aim  which  Nietzsche  proposes  is  different,  he  thinks, 
from  that  of  previous  moralities.  The  various  moral  judgments 

Zarathustra,  IV,  xiii,  § 15. 

Joyful  Science,  § 79. 

Beyond  Oood  and  Evil,  § 60.  So  “ in  thy  friend  thou  shalt  love  the 
superman  as  thy  motive  ” ( Zarathustra,  I,  xvi ) . 

Zarathustra,  II,  xxi. 

Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 12. 

Werke,  XIV,  204,  §405;  330,  § 166. 

Will  to  Power,  § 713.  Cf.  the  descriptions  in  Zarathustra,  II,  xx. 

Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § II  (“  denn  wir  leiden  am  Menschen,  es  ist  kein 
Zweifel  ” ) . 

•>*  Werke,  XIII,  213,  § 498. 


344 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


of  the  past  have  been  in  the  interest  of  “peoples,”  “races,” 
etc.,  not  of  the  species  man  and  its  utmost  development,  and 
indeed  of  peoples  who  wished  to  assert  themselves  against  other 
peoples,  classes  who  wished  to  mark  themselves  off  from  other 
classes.  Morality  has  been  an  instrument  for  the  preservation 
of  a group  (of  some  kind),  not  for  the  development  of  the 
race.®®  This  we  have  seen  in  the  preceding  criticism.  Even  in 
Christian  morality  he  finds  no  exception,  since  he  sees  in  it  an 
assertion  of  the  interest  of  the  mass  as  against  the  class  that 
had  ordinarily  stood  above  them,  the  kingdom  of  heaven  being 
only  an  order  in  which  the  mass-morality  {Heerdenmoral) 
should  rule  absolutely,  leaving  no  room  for  moral  conceptions  of 
another  order,  and  no  place  for  another  than  social  type  of 
man.  But  for  the  mass  to  aim  at  their  own  good  and  make 
their  valuations  supreme,  is  not  necessarily  to  raise  the  type  of 
man;  nay,  just  to  the  extent  this  morality  dominates  and  ex- 
cludes all  others,  it  tends  to  fix  the  human  type  as  it  now 
exists  and  prevent  the  rise  of  anything  different  and  higher. 
Here  is  the  secret  of  the  antagonism,  violent  at  times,  which 
Nietzsche  manifests  to  Christian  morality.  By  its  very  attrac- 
tiveness and  sweetness,  by  the  very  validity  it  has  within  a lim- 
ited area  (for  he  never  questions  the  place  of  mutual  love  and 
help),  it  seduces  us  to  give  it  an  absolute  authority  and  leads 
us  away  from  the  thought  of  those  higher  possibilities  of  man- 
kind that  alone,  to  his  mind,  make  life  greatly  worth  while. 
The  carrying  life  to  new  and  [practically]  superhuman  heights, 
not  security,  happiness  and  comfort  for  the  mass,  is  Nietzsche’s 
ideal. 


rv 

The  aim  is  vague  and  yet  already  with  it  Nietzsche  has  a 
principle  for  judging  things.  With  an  ultimate  value,  he 
estimates  other  things  accordingly.  If  the  highest  reach  of  life 
■ is  the  measure  of  things,  then  good  is  what  tends  that  way,  and 
bad  what  tends  in  an  opposite  direction.  There  are  lines  of 
procedure  now,  possible  actions,  feelings,  thoughts,  institutions, 
laws  that  harmonize  with  movement  toward  the  desired  goal — 
they  are  then  to  be  furthered ; other  courses  are  to  be  opposed. 

XIII,  I4I-2,  §§  327-9. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  PROPOSED  BY  NIETZSCHE  345 


Nietzsche  calls  it  a naturalistic  view ; by  this  he  means  that  there 
are  no  “oughts”  or  “ought  nots”  transcending  life,  but  that 
life  itself  is  the  ultimate  standard,  and  that  ‘ ‘ ought  ’ ’ and  ‘ ‘ ought 
not  ’ ’ are  fixed  by  the  demands  of  life  ™ — in  the  last  resort, 
the  demands  of  the  highest  life.  He  also  has  in  mind  the  fact 
that  we  are  bodies,  a certain  type  of  physiological  organization, 
something  far  more  and  deeper  than  our  momentary  thoughts 
and  feelings,  or,  for  that  matter,  the  whole  reign  of  our  coti- 
scious  life,*^  and  that  it  is  this  perduring  substratum,  the  same 
whether  we  are  awake  or  asleep,  the  same  more  or  less  in  father 
and  son,  this  actual  line  of  physiological  descent,  out  of  which 
the  higher  men  of  the  future  are  to  spring — in  other  words, 
that  we  carry  in  our  loins  now  the  superman,  that  he  is  no 
angel  from  other  spheres  or  bodiless  phantasm  like  the  Greek 
Gods.'^^  This  is  the  meaning  of  the  value  which  Nietzsche  gives 
to  the  earth,  of  which  we  hear  so  much  in  Zarathustra.  Stay 
true  to  the  earth,  he  exclaims,  and  lead  the  virtue  that  has  flown 
away  from  the  earth  back  to  it,  back  to  body  and  life.’'^ 
Deserting  life  and  wallowing  in  the  thought  of  some  other  sort 
of  existence  is  the  supreme  disloyalty To  spin  the  threads 
of  our  human  life  so  that  they  ever  become  stronger — that  is 
the  task.'^'*  Let  us  now  see  how  the  supreme  valuation  brings 
still  other  detailed  valuations  in  its  wake. 

First,  we  have  a standard  for  measuring  truth  and  good- 
ness.  These  are  valuable  so  far  as  they  serve  life,  but  they  are 
not  supreme  over  life.  If  there  are  truths  that  are  unfavorable  to^ 
life  (and  we  have  no  guarantee  that  there  may  not  be  such  and 
rather  reason  to  think  that  there  are  some— unfavorable  at  least 
to  the  life  of  most) , there  is  no  absolute  duty  to  know  them.  Some 
forms  of  goodness — for  instance,  the  mass  ideals  of  goodness 
taken  absolutely — may  work  contrary  to  the  highest  forms  of 
life,  may  paralyze  the  springs  of  great  desires^® — they  are 

'"‘Twilight  etc.,  v,  §4;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  §462. 

” Cf.  Werke,  XII,  362,  § 688  (mankind  must  set  its  aim  beyond  itself, 
not,  however,  in  a false  world,  but  in  its  own  continuation)  ; cf.  XIV, 
263,  § 10. 

Zarathustra,  I,  xxii,  § 2.  Zarathustra  loves  those  who  do  not  have 
to  seek  a reason  beyond  the  stars  for  sacrifice  (prologue,  § 4). 

Cf.  Zarathustra,  prologue,  §3  (once  crime  against  God  was  the 
greatest  crime;  now  the  most  terrible  thing  is  to  sin  against  the  earth). 

” Will  to  Power,  § 674. 

Hid.,  §244. 


346 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


not  binding  upon  all.  The  hostile,  destructive  spirit  (the  Bose), 
not  love  and  pity  only,  has  work  to  do  in  the  world. 

Second,  we  are  able  to  judge  the  popular  ethical  notion  that 
the  aim  of  morality  is  the  general  welfare,  or,  as  it  is  some- 
times put,  the  preservation  and  furthering  of  the  interests  of 
mankind.  Preserving,  says  Nietzsche,  but  in  what,  along  what 
line?  Furthering,  but  toward  what?  Is  it  the  longest  possible 
duration  of  mankind  that  is  in  mind  or  its  greatest  possible 
deanimalization  ? — for  these  things  may  contradict  one  another. 
To  Nietzsche,  I need  not  say,  a line  of  ascending  life  is  better, 
even  though  it  comes  to  an  end,  than  life  continuing  on  the 
same  level,  even  though  it  be  indefinitely  prolonged.^®  “Gen- 
eral welfare”  is  equally  ambiguous;  or,  if  it  means  that  the 
welfare  of  the  mass  is  the  goal  to  be  aimed  at  as  opposed  to 
the  evolution  of  higher  types,  which  may  have  to  be  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  mass,  then  “general  welfare”  is  a false  and  anti- 
evolutionary principle.'^^  Indeed,  remembering  how  man  has 
risen  from  the  animal  and  higher  races  from  lower,  only  as 
superior  members  of  a species  got  an  advantage  over  the  rest 
and  bred  more  successfully  their  kind  (a  higher  species  thus  in 
time  resulting),  Nietzsche  says  that  the  principle,  “the  good  of 
the  majority  is  to  be  preferred  to  that  of  individuals,”  is 
enough  to  take  mankind  in  the  course  of  time  back  to  the 
lowest  animality,  for  it  is  the  reverse  principle,  “individuals 
are  of  more  importance  than  the  mass,”  that  has  elevated 
it.'® 

Third,  we  have  a measurement  of  healthy  and  sickly — 
health  taken  as  covering  body  and  spirit  (things  perhaps  ulti- 
mately not  so  very  different).  Whatever  Schopenhauer  and 
Christian  saints  may  say  from  their  standpoint,  to  Nietzsche 
those  who  turn  away  from  life  and  exalt  virtues  antithetical 
to  life  are  sick,  and  they  rank  lower,  are  less  desirable  members 
of  the  species,  on  this  account.  It  is  the  sound  and  strong  who 
keep  alive  our  confidence  in  life — and  their  right  to  be,  the 
prerogative  of  the  bell  with  full  tone,  is  a thousandfold  greater 
than  the  right  of  the  discordant  and  broken ; the  latter  under- 

Daivn  of  Day,  § 106;  cf.  Will  to  Poioer,  § 864  (towards  the  close). 

''''Dawn  of  Day,  § 106;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 228;  Genealogy  etc., 
I,  note  at  the  end. 

Werke,  XI,  223,  § 160;  cf.  ante,  in  this  volume,  p.  64. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  PROPOSED  BY  NIETZSCHE  347 


mine  life  and  faith  in  life — they,  and  not  the  Bosen  and 
“robber-animals,”  are  man’s  greatest  danger.” 

Fourth,  we  can  now  measure  egoism  and  altruism  from  a 
standpoint  superior  to  either.  Dr.  Dolson,  perhaps  the  earliest 
philosophical  student  of  Nietzsche  in  America,  says  that  “the 
one  name  that  can  be  given”  to  his  system  “without  qualification 
is  egoism”;  but  she  straightway  begins  to  make  qualifications — 
and  really  they  are  most  necessary For  all  depends  on  who 
or  what  the  ego  is.  The  egoism  of  one  who  represents  the  rising 
tide  of  life  is  justified,  though  only  in  those  who  reach  the 
highest  crest  is  it  completely  justified,  all  the  rest  having  their 
ends  more  or  less  beyond  themselves.  The  egoism  of  the  sickly 
and  the  degenerate,  on  the  other  hand,  is  not  justified,  it  is  rather 
something  pitiful  and  revolting.®^  In  a similar  way  altruism  is 
justified  so  far  as  there  are  (or  may  be)  others  better  than  our- 
selves; altruism  under  these  conditions  is  justified,  even  if  car- 
ried to  the  point  of  sacrifice.  But  altruism  is  not  justified,  when 
the  “others”  are  not  worth  preserving  and  belong  to  those 
whose  reason  for  existence  has  ceased  to  be  (if  it  ever  was).^ 
Fifth,  life  being  essentially  a process,  a series  of  actions, 
a successive  accumulation  and  expenditure  of  force,  an  adverse 
judgment  is  necessarily  involved  on  viewing  anything  that  is 
static,  like  pleasure  or  happiness,  as  an  end.  Life  is  not  a means 
to  enjoyment  (Genuss).  The  noble  soul  does  not  wish  to  enjoy, 
save  as  it  gives  enjoyment.^  Whether  it  be  pleasure  or  happi- 
ness or  Carlyle’s  “blessedness”  or  peace  of  mind  or  good  con- 
science, any  and  all  are  but  incidents  by  the  way.®^  We  are 
here  rather  to  develop  a certain  kind  and  way  of  acting,  and 
move  toward  a certain  end;  it  is  this,  and  not  any  momentary 
state  or  how  we  feel,  that  is  the  critical  thing.  It  seems  to  be 
taken  for  granted  in  many  quarters  that  pleasure  of  some  kind 

Genealogy  etc.,  Ill,  § 14. 

Op.  cit.,  p.  101. 

Zarathustra,  I,  xxii,  § 1.  The  egoism  (Eigenliebe)  of  the  “ Siechen 
und  Suchtigen”  “stinkt”  {ibid.,  Ill,  xi,  §2).  Cf.  still  further  on  the 
two  kinds  of  egoism,  Will  to  Power,  § 873. 

Werke,  XIV,  95,  § 198;  Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  § 5. 

‘^Werke,  XII,  137-8,  § 266.  As  to  the  various  meanings  of  “peace 
of  mind,”  see  Twilight  etc.,  v,  §3;  as  to  “blessedness,”  Will  to  Poioer, 
§911.  Cf.  the  characterization  of  “enjoyment,  coarse,  heavy,  brown 
enjoyment,  as  those  who  enjoy  life,  our  ‘ educated  ’ class,  our  rich  men. 
and  rulers  understand  it”  (Joyful  Science,  preface,  §4). 


348 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


(gross  or  refined)  must  be  the  final  end  of  every  act,  moral 
action  only  differing  in  that  it  seeks  lasting  pleasure,  or  the 
greatest  or  the  highest  pleasure,  or  others’  pleasure  as  well  as 
our  own;  that  there  is  no  raison  d’etre  for  an  action  save  in  the 
agreeable  feeling  it  gives  somewhere.®  Nietzsche  had  argued 
more  or  less  in  this  way  in  his  purely  critical  period,  but  he 
has  now  come  to  give  pleasure  an  entirely  subordinate  place.^ 
He  thinks  indeed  that  it  is  the  commoner  sort  of  men  who 
especially  seek  pleasure,  the  greater  sort  wishing  above  all  to 
expend  their  force,  more  or  less  indifferent  to  pleasure  and 
pain  calculations.®^  He  regards  marked  emphasis  on  pleasure 
and  particularly  craving  for  enjoyment  as  “symptomatic”:  it 
implies  people  who  lack  these  things — a more  or  less  suffering 
and  unhappy  class.®®  “Utility  and  enjoyment”  are  really 
“slave”  theories  of  life,  i.e.,  of  those  who  are  overburdened 
and  want  relief  from  their  hard  lot.®^  The  strong  man  is  not 
after  happiness — but  he  acts,  acts  successfully,  and  in  that 
action  is  happiness:  happiness  comes  without  his  seeking  it — 
it  is  comes,  not  dux  of  his  virtue.®®  This  does  not  mean  con- 
tempt of  happiness — Nietzsche  knows  its  place  as  an  adjunct 
in  life.®®  He  even  gives  to  utilitarianism  a certain  relative 
validity — it  is  the  natural  doctrine  of  the  great  working  mass 
of  men,  and  of  those  who  take  their  standpoint.®®  But  he  abso- 
lutely refuses  to  regard  happiness  (sensation  of  any  kind)  as 
the  final  measure  of  what  is  desirable,  and  has  a kind  of  con- 
tempt for  “green  pastures  and  quiet  waters”  felicity,  when 
made  a universal  ideal  ;®^  he  even  thinks  that  the  “salvation  of 

rf  Wm  in  Pnwpr  S 028 

^’^WerJce,  XIII,  177,’ § 405;  Will  to  Power,  §§  579,  909,  1022. 

Werke,  XII,  152,  § 359;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  781,  790.  Christianity 
with  its  vista  of  future  “blessedness”  is  a typical  way  of  thinking  for. 
a suffering  and  impoverished  species  of  man  {Will  to  Power,  § 222). 

Will  to  Power,  § 758.  Hence  the  running  fire  on  utilitarianism 
(whether  egoistic  or  universalistic ) , and,  since  England  is  its  principal 
home,  the  sarcastic  references  to  Englishmen.  As  to  utilitarianism,  see 
Werke,  XIII,  150-1;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §§  174,  188,  190,  225,  228, 
260;  as  to  Englishmen,  Will  to  Power,  §§  930,  944;  Twilight  etc.,  i,  § 12. 

Werke,  XIII,  158,  § 367;  XII,  137-8,  § 266_;  Will  to  Power,  §§  1023, 
1026.  So  love  is  comes  of  reason  and  justice,  joy  in  it,  pleasure  in  its 
possession,  desire  to  possess  it  wholly  and  in  all  its  beauty  the  (esthetic 
side  of  reason  and  justice,  a subsidiary  impulse  (Werke,  XII,  137,  § 265). 

Cf.  the  recognition  of  Bentham  and  particularly  Helvetius  (Werke, 
XIII,  107). 

»»  Cf.  Werke,  XIII,  150-1,  § 356. 

Will  to  Power,  § 957, 


THE  MORAL  AIM  PROPOSED  BY  NIETZSCHE  349 


the  soul”  is  a better  aim  and  a fuller  conception  than  the  hap- 
piness which  moralists  talk  about,  since  it  covers  the  whole 
willing,  creating,  feeling  self  and  not  merely  a secondary 
accompanying  phenomenon  like  happiness.®^  ^ 

Sixth,  Nietzsche’s  final  principle  involves  judgment  on  the 
idea  sometime  advanced  that  we  are  to  develop  all  the  impulses 
of  our  nature.  ‘ ‘ Develope  all  thy  powers  ? but  that  means : 
develope  anarchy!  Go  to  pieces!”®^®  A ruling  principle,  a 
master  impulse  is  necessary,  something  to  bring  all  the  rest  of 
our  being  into  order,  and  that  is  what  a final  aim  like  Nietzsche’s 
does.’’ 

And  now  I come  to  a paradox.  Nietzsche  makes  life  supreme 
and  yet  honors  on  occasion  those  who  risk  their  life  or  even 
sacrifice  it.  Indeed,  he  says  in  general  that  one  should  part 
with  life  as  Ulysses  did  from  Nausicaa — more  blessing  it  than 
in  love  with  it.®^  Is  this  inconsistent  ? Let  us  see.  What  is  life 
(as  he  understands  it)  ? Heaped-up  force  which  in  turn  ex- 
pends itself,  a continuous  process  of  this  sort.  The  acting, 
expending  is  the  final  thing,  and  doing  this  in  a certain  way, 
for  a certain  end,  is  to  his  mind  the  moral.  But  suppose  such 
action  puts  one’s  existence  in  peril,  what  then?  If  persisted 
in,  is  life  thereby  despised?  In  a sense  it  certainly  is — for  we 
no  longer  set  a supreme  value  on  continued  existence.  If  we 
care  for  life  in  that  sense  above  all  else  we  may  go  far,  but 
shall  not  actually  put  it  in  jeopardy — simple  prudence  will  hold 
us  back.  And  yet  we  find  Nietzsche  on  occasion  despising  pru- 
dence. He  even  honors  a strong  sinner  more  than  one  who  is 
held  back  by  motives  of  this  sort.®®  Those  he  counts  great  are 
always  those  who  can  transcend  them.  “I  love  him,”  says 
Zarathustra,  “whose  soul  is  prodigal,”  who  “will  not  save  him- 
self.” “What  matters  long  life!  What  warrior  wishes  to  be 
spared!”  “Myself  I sacrifice  unto  my  love,  and  my  neighbors 
as  myself.”®®  Nietzsche  goes  so  far  [he  is  careless  of  formal 

Werke,  XIII,  152,  § 361. 

Ihid.,  XI,  277,  § 304. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 96. 

^^Zarathustra,  prologue,  §3;  cf.  Werke,  XI,  250,  §§216-8;  Will  to 
Power,  § 909.  President  Wilson  said,  when  Governor-elect  of  New  Jersey 
(1911),  “God  defend  us  against  compromise;  I would  rather  be  a knave 
than  a coward.” 

'"‘Zarathustra,  prologue,  §4;  1,  x.  ■ Cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 13 


350 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


consistency]  as  to  say,  “much  is  more  highly  prized  by  the 
living  being  than  life  itself”;  and  again,  “men  have  become 
so  pitiable  that  even  the  philosophers  do  not  notice  the  deep 
contempt  with  which  antiquity  and  the  middle  ages  treated  this 
‘self-evident  value  of  values,  life.’  Have  we  then  a contra- 
diction? Verbally,  yes;  but  not  really  in  thought.  The  fact 
is  that  “life”  may  be  taken  in  two  senses:  on  the  one  hand  it 
may  mean  the  inner  active  process  already  described,  on  the 
other,  something  static  and  external,  mere  existence.  Nietzsche 
implies  the  two  meanings  and  puts  the  matter  in  a nutshell, 
when  he  says  that  to  risk  life  is  not  to  despise  it,  but  rather  to 
lift  it  to  a higher  potency.®®'  The  supreme  act  of  life  (in  one 
sense)  may  be  to  lose  it  (in  another).  Even  the  life  of  the 
species,  in  the  sense  of  its  mere  continued  existence,  is  not  the 
end  to  Nietzsche.®®  The  great  man,  the  genius,  the  superman, 
the  final  raison  d’etre  of  the  species,  is  himself  a prodigal 
{Verschwender) — that  he  spends  himself  is  his  greatness;  the 
instinct  of  self-preservation  is  suspended  in  him,  the  mighty 
urge  of  the  forces  streaming  out  through  him  forbidding  every 
such  care  and  precaution.^®® 


V 

A word  as  to  the  objectivity  of  Nietzsche’s  standard.  He 
is  sometimes  said  to  give  us  only  a subjective  arbitrary  mora- 
ity,’®^  being  compared  to  the  Greek  Sophists  who  denied  all 
objective  norms.  The  element  of  truth  in  such  a view  we  have 
already  seen — all  morality  is,  according  to  him,  the  result  of 
subjective  demand  somewhere;  but  in  another  way  it  contains 
more  error  than  truth.  Though  ends  are  set  by  the  intelligent 

(“a  living  thing  will  above  all  expend  its  force — self-preservation  is  only 
one  of  the  indirect  and  most  frequent  results  of  this”);  Werke,  XIV, 
314,  § 146  (mankind  a mass  of  force,  which  grows  and  must  spend  itself). 

Zarathustra,  II,  xii;  Werke,  XI,  223,  § 159. 

Will  to  Power,  § 929. 

'>0  lUd.,  § 864. 

^00  Twilight  etc.,  ix,  §44;  cf.  Werke,  XIV,  335,  §178.  0.  Kiilpe 

leaves  this  out  of  account  when  he  speaks  of  life  at  any  price  as  Nietzsche’s 
supreme  value  (Die  Philosophie  der  Gegenicart  in  Deutschland,  3rd  ed., 
p.  65 ) . Meyer  remarks  that  Nietzsche’s  own  short  life,  inspired  and 
productive  as  it  was,  was  better  than  a long,  healthy  life,  filled  with 
moderate  labors  (Jahrbuch  fiir  das  classische  Alterthum,  Vol.  V,  p.  727). 

Cf.  Arthur  Drews,  op.  cit.,  p.  312. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  PROPOSED  BY  NIETZSCHE  351 


will  and  have  no  existence  apart  from  it,  the  particular  end 
which  Nietzsche  himself  chooses  is  something  that  belongs  to 
the  realm  of  nature  itself,  and,  once  turned  into  an  end,  it 
becomes  as  exacting,  and  as  independent  of  individual  caprice 
or  even  individual  welfare  in  its  requirements,  as  natural  law 
itself  could  be.’  An  American  writer  from  whom  many  seem 
to  get  their  ideas  of  Nietzsche,  but  who  unfortunately  more  or 
less  vulgarizes  him,  says  that  completely  rejecting  “all  fixed 
codes  of  morality,”  he  leaves  a man  to  “judge  a given  action 
solely  by  its  effects  upon  his  own  welfare,  his  own  desire  or  will 
to  live,  and  that  of  his  children  after  him.”^“  There  could 
hardly  be  a greater  misunderstanding.  For  what  has  the 
ascending  life  of  humanity  necessarily  to  do  with  any  chance 
individual’s  personal  welfare,  or  that  of  his  children,  unless 
indeed  they  are  a part  of  that  ascending  life.,  in  which  case 
their  welfare  is  a matter  not  so  much  of  personal,  as  of  general 
moment?  This  writer  says,  “Nietzsche  offers  the  gospel  of 
prudent  and  intelligent  selfishness,  of  absolute  and  utter  indi- 
vidualism.” But  Nietzsche  expressly  declares,  “my  phi- 
losophy aims  at  an  order  of  rank,  not  at  an  individualistic 
morality”;  he  derides  the  morals  of  individual  happiness,  it 
is  not  science  and  not  wisdom,  but  mere  prudence  mixed  with 
stupidity ; he  calls  it  the  most  immodest  of  arriere-pensees  to 
measure  good  and  evil  from  the  standpoint  of  our  personal 
selves.'®®  Particularly  if  a man  belongs  to  the  descending  line 
of  life,  is  it  a horror  in  Nietzsche’s  eyes  when  he  says,  “all  for 
myself.”'®^  Ascending  life  and  the  highest  possible  ascent 
being  the  measure  of  things,'®®  individuals  are  themselves  good 

Henry  L.  Mencken,  The  Philosophy  of  Friedrich  Nietzsche,  pp. 

92-3. 

Op.  cit.,  p.  102.  These  crudities  are  retained  in  the  “fully  re- 
vised,” 3rd  ed. 

Will  to  Power,  § 287. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 198. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 102.  Frank  Thilly  hardly  bears  this  in  mind  in 
speaking  of  Nietzsche  as  standing  for  an  extreme  form  of  moral  indi- 
vidualism, every  one  striking  for  himself  {Hibhert  Journal,  October,  1911, 
pp.  262-3);  and  Paul  Carus  is  absolutely  mistaken  in  speaking  (in  the 
announcement  of  his  book  on  Nietzsche)  of  Nietzsche’s,  along  with  Max 
Stirner’s,  “ extreme  individualism,  which  regards  every  single  person  as 
an  absolutely  autonomous  sovereign  being.”  On  the  other  hand,  Simmel 
makes  all  the  discriminations  needed  (op.  cit.,  pp.  242-5). 

Zarathustra,  I,  xxii,  § 1. 

Cf.  a statement  like  that  of  Will  to  Power,  § 354  or  § 373. 


352  NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 

and  bad  as  they  belong  to  it  or  no — at  least  as  they  further  or 
retard  it. 

The  standard  is  of  such  a nature  that  it  is  independent  of 
personal  feeling — or  even  opinion.  Can  one  think,  Nietzsche 
asks,  of  a madder  extravagance  or  vanity  than  to  judge  the 
worth  of  existence  by  agreeable  or  disagreeable  feelings  ? 
One  is  not  well  because  he  feels  so,  any  more  than  one  is 
“guilty,”  “sinful”  because  he  feels  so — witches  not  only  were 
believed  to  be  guilty,  but  they  thought  themselves  so.^^®  By  this 
is  meant  that  as  health  is  a matter  of  objective  physiological 
measurement,  so  is  life,  advancing  life,  and  the  highest  life.“^ 
The  value  of  a “thou  oughtst”  is  independent  of  opinion  about 
it,  as  certainly  as  the  value  of  a medical  prescription  is  inde- 
pendent of  whether  one  thinks  scientifically,  or  like  an  old 
woman,  about  medicine.^^^  The  greatest  sincerity  of  conviction 
avails  nothing ; on  the  other  hand,  decisive  and  valuable  actions 
may  be  done  without  assurance  of  conscienee.^^®  It  is  plain 
from  utterances  like  these  that  Nietzsche  thinks  that  in  his 
standard  of  value  he  has  something  absolutely  objective.  It  is 
even  independent  of  our  chance  affirmation  of  it.  To  call  an 
action  good,  he  derisively  exclaims,  because  our  conscience  says 
yes  to  it ! It  is  as  if  a work  of  art  became  beautiful  because  it 
pleased  the  artist!  As  if  the  value  of  music  were  determined 
by  our  enjoyment  of  it,  or  the  enjoyment  of  the  composer ! 
All  this  subjective  way  of  judging  things  that  have  really  a 
law  and  logic  of  their  own  is  abhorrent  to  Nietzsche.^^®  Life  is 
something  objective  to  him ; being  at  bottom  an  organization  of 
power,  the  worth  of  any  particular  specimen  depends  upon  how 
much  power  it  incorporates,  and  upon  how  high  the  level  is  to 
which  the  power  attains.^^®  The  whole  range  of  feeling,  even  of 
consciousness,  is  more  or  less  accidental  in  relation  to  it.  Feel- 
ing makes  nothing  good,  and  consciousness  is  a means  of  life, 

IMd.,  § 674. 

Genealogy  etc.,  Ill,  § 16;  cf.  Werke,  XII,  148,  § 293. 

Cf.  the  suggestions  of  Will  to  Power,  § 291. 

Werke,  XIV,  402,  § 278;  XIII,  129,  §§  293-4. 

””  Ihid.,  XIII,  134,  § 310;  135,  § 311. 

Werke,  XIII,  135,  §311;  Will  to  Power,  §291. 

Cf.,  as  to  music  and  the  lack  of  an  aesthetics  of  music  at  the 
present  time.  Will  to  Power,  §§  838,  842. 

§ 674. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  PROPOSED  BY  NIETZSCHE  353 


more  or  less  a help,  too  much  of  it  a hindrance, but  never  a 
basic  thing  in  life — he  holds  to  the  old  Schopenhauerian  view  in 
this  respect,  which  has  points  of  contact  with  what  is  called 
the  “instrumental”  view  now.  Nietzsche  himself  speaks  of  the 
necessity  of  an  objective  valuation.”*  He  believes  that  he  has 
an  objective  value.  He  is  in  reality  the  opposite,  as  Professor 
Simmel  has  remarked,  of  the  Greek  Sophists  or  of  a thinker  like 
Max  Stirner  in  recent  times,  for  whom  the  only  reality  is  the 
individual  subject,  each  subject  judging  according  to  its  own 
personal  standpoint ; in  Stirner,  not  in  Nietzsche,  is  the  position 
of  the  Sophists  revived.' 

Nietzsche  says,  “everything  good  is  instinct,”  which  is  not  the 
same  as  saying,  “ every  instinct  is  good,”  a confusion  to  which  A.  S. 
Pringle-Pattison  comes  very  near  (op.  cit.,  p.  313).  Nietzsche’s  general 
view  is  that  consciousness  is  only  an  instrument  in  the  development  of 
life — reason  too  (cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 191). 

Will  to  Potver,  § 707;  cf.  Werke,  XIII,  135,  §311  (a  community’s 
“ advantage  ” distinguished  from  its  pleasurable  feelings ) . 


CHAPTER  XXV 


MORAL  CONSTRUCTION  (Cont.).  THE  MORAL  AIM  AND 
WILL  TO  POWER 

I 

“Will  to  power”  is  primarily  with  Nietzsche  an  analysis  of 
reality — as  we  have  seen  in  Chapter  XV,  he  finds  an  impulse  of 
this  description  at  the  base  of  man’s  being,  and  then  proceeds 
to  construe  life  and  the  world  at  large  in  terms  of  it.  It  is 
fundamentally  a psychological  and  cosmological,  not  ethical  doc- 
trine. So  and  so  man  and  the  world  are  made,  here  lies  the 
bottom  spring  (or  springs) — such  is  the  meaning  of  it.^ 

As  matter  of  fact,  Nietzsche  was  not  laudatory  of  power  in 
his  early  days  ^ nor  was  he  unqualifiedly  so  in  his  second  period, 
and  some  kinds  of  power  did  not  have  his  admiration  even  in 
the  last  period. 

Indeed,  power  in  and  of  itself  was  never  a standard  to  Nietz- 
sche— and  since  there  is  so  much  misconception  on  this  point,  it 
may  be  well  to  bring  out  the  fact  clearly  at  the  outset,  and  then 
later  indicate  the  connection  between  power,  or  will  to  it,  and 
the  general  ethical  aim  which  he  proposes,  as  stated  in  the  last 
chapter.^ 


n 

Use  is  made  by  some®  of  an  incident  in  Nietzsche’s  early 
life,  when  he  was  caught  out  in  a thunderstorm  and  felt,  as 
he  said,  an  incomparable  elevation  in  witnessing  the  lightning, 
the  tempest,  the  hail — free,  non-ethical  forces,  pure  will  un- 
troubled by  the  intellect.^*’  It  was  an  experience  such  as  any 

* Richter  remarks  that  the  larger  interpretation  comes  in  Nietzsche’s 
closing  period,  the  doctrine  having  been  primarily  psychological  (op.  cit., 
p.  271). 

“ N.  Awxentieff  in  his  interesting  study,  Kultur-ethisches  Ideal  Nietz- 
sches, expounds  first  the  doctrine  of  will  to  power,  and  then  the  theory 
of  “natural”  morality  (see  particularly  pp.  117-38). 

‘ E.g.,  by  A.  S.  Pringle-Pattison  (op.  cit.,  pp.  261-2). 

‘Letter  to  von  Gersdorff,  April  7,  1866  ( Brief e,  I,  25-6). 

354 


THE  MORAL  AIM  AND  WILL  TO  POWER  355 


reflecting  student,  harassed  in  various  ways,  might  have,  and 
is  essentially  Schopenhauerian  in  the  manner  in  which  it  is 
described.  But  though  he  felt  the  glory  of  nature’s  life,  he  did 
not  set  up  nature  as  a model,  then  or  at  any  time.  In  a striking 
passage  in  one  of  his  later  books,  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  he 
speaks  of  the  impossibility  of  living  “according  to  nature.” 
Nature,  he  says,  is  wasteful,  indifferent,  without  purpose  or 
consideration,  pity  or  justice,  at  once  fearful,  desert-like,  and 
uncertain,  indifference  itself  being  power — one  recalls  Matthew 
Arnold’s  sonnet  “In  Harmony  with  Nature.”  The  Stoics 
really  put  their  moral  ideal  into  nature — and  then  proceeded 
to  find  it  natural ! ® Indeed,  Nietzsche  dissents  from  the  whole 
conception,  so  common  in  our  day,  of  morality  and  life  as  con- 
sisting in  adjustment  to  external  conditions.  To  be  determined 
by  our  environment,  rather  than  to  shape  it  more  or  less  our- 
selves, is  to  him  a sign  of  decadence.®  Much  that  looks  like  a 
simple  effect  of  environment  is,  he  urges,  really  the  result  of 
an  active  adaptation  from  within — exactly  the  same  circum- 
stances being  treated  in  different  ways  (according  to  the  nature 
of  the  inner  impulse).'^  He  criticises  Spencer  and  Darwin  for 
overvaluing  outer  conditions®  and  would  probably  have  agreed 
with  William  James  against  John  Fiske  and  Grant  Allen  in 
their  famous  controversy  about  “Great  Men”  some  years  ago.** 
A genius,  he  says,  is  not  explained  by  the  conditions  of  his  rise,® 
and  he  counts  it  one  of  the  weaknesses  of  modern  life  that  we 
no  longer  know  how  to  act,  and  can  only  react  on  incitement 
from  without — examples  being  historians,  critics,  analyzers, 
interpreters,  observers,  collectors,  readers,  and  scientific  men 
in  general,  i.e.,  all  who  merely  note  what  is  and  do  not  create.^® 
It  is  from  nowhere  save  from  within  and  from  the  inner- 
most impulses  of  our  nature  that  Nietzsche  takes  his  moral 
ideal. 

Yes,  so  strong  is  the  idealizing  tendency  with  him  that  he 
refuses  even  to  take  the  dominating  morality  of  our  time  as  the 
ideal  of  morality.  At  present  the  average  man,  the  social  man, 
is  in  the  foreground  and  everything  is  estimated  from  the 

“ Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 9.  ® As  to  Darwin,  cf.  ibid.,  § 647. 

® Will  to  Power,  § 49.  “ Ibid.,  § 70. 

§70.  ^0 /bid.,  §71. 


356 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


standpoint  of  his  interests,  to  the  prejudice  of  rarer,  higher  indi- 
viduals who  more  or  less  stand  apart;  and  if,  says  Nietzsche, 
we  make  this  reality  over  into  a morality  we  have  as  the  result 
that  the  average  are  of  more  value  than  the  exceptions — some- 
thing against  which  he  protests  with  the  whole  energy  of  his 
nature,  declaring,  “Against  formulating  reality  into  a morality 
I rehel.”“  Hence  a remark,  which  shows  again  how  little 
nature  and  natural  tendencies  are  a norm  to  him:  “I  find  the 
‘cruelty  of  nature,’  of  which  so  much  is  said,  in  another  place: 
she  is  cruel  to  her  fortunate  children  {Gliickskmder) , she  spares 
and  protects  les  humbles.” 

That  Nietzsche’s  ideal  was  not  one  of  mere  power  (of  what- 
ever kind),  I shall  now  show  by  a number  of  citations — all  from 
the  writings  of  his  middle  and  later  period,  when  the  doctrine 
of  the  will  to  power  was  taking  shape  in  his  mind.  We  still, 
he  says,  fall  on  our  knees  before  force  after  the  old  slave- 
fashion,  but  if  we  ask  how  far  force  deserves  to  be  revered  we 
can  only  answer,  to  the  extent  reason  blends  with  it — we  must 
ask  how  far  it  is  ruled  by  something  higher  and  serves  it  as  its 
instrument  and  means.’^  You  stronger  and  haughty  minds,  he 
exclaims,  grant  us  only  one  thing:  lay  no  new  burdens  on  us, 
but  take  some  of  our  burdens  on  yourselves,  as  becomes  the 
stronger ! He  indicates  plainly  enough  that  tyrants  of  the 
ordinary  sort  are  odious  to  him — whether  in  the  political  or 
intellectual  realm.'®  He  calls  it  one  of  the  limitations  of  great 
men  that  they  are  too  apt  to  make  the  lesser  kind  stupid.'®  We 
may  seek  to  possess  things,  but  not  men ; authority  so  as  to 
command  others  is  not  desirable.'^  He  is  against  the  tyranny 
of  even  true  opinions — as  if  they  alone  should  exist ! '®  It  is  the 
people  with  “absolute  truth”  who  burn  Jews  and  heretics  and 
good  books,  and  root  out  entire  cultures,  as  in  Peru  and  Mexico 
— fanatical  love  of  power  leading  them  on.'®  The  same  thing 


Ibid.,  § 685. 

Will  to  Power,  § 685. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 548. 

“ Ibid.,  §514;  cf.  Human,  etc.,  § 158. 

Dawn  of  Day,  §§  199,  320. 

'^Will  to  Power,  § 875;  cf.  Human,  etc.,  § 260. 
” Werlce,  XII,  129-30,  § 249. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 507. 

” Ibid.,  § 204. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  AND  WILL  TO  POWER  357 


leads  men  of  today  to  do  all  kinds  of  shady  things  to  get  rich 
“Often  slime  sits  on  the  throne  and  the  throne  on  slime.” 
Mistaken  instincts  for  power,  too,  are  behind  the  philosopher’s 
will  for  a system — really  a will,  Nietzsche  thinks,  to  make  one’s 
self  more  stupid  than  one  is,  “stronger,  simpler,  more  imperious, 
ruder,  more  tyrannical.”^  Will  to  power  lies  behind  religious 
domination:  priests  became  the  ruling  class  in  later  Israel; 
Israel  itself,  through  Christianity,  has  become  a ruling  influ- 
ence in  our  Western  world — such  domination  is  objectionable 
to  Nietzsche.^  The  people,  i.e.,  the  mass,  are  coming  to  power 
in  modern  states — Nietzsche  opposes  the  tendency Occasion- 
ally violent  men  take  advantage  of  popular  disorders  to  put 
themselves  and  their  arbitrary  will  through ; but  the  nobility 
he  wishes  to  see  will  be  enemies  both  of  the  lustful  populace 
and  of  these  upstarts  {Gewalt-Herren)  Of  the  Germany  of 
today,  he  remarks,  “It  costs  dear  to  come  to  power:  power 
makes  stupid  {verdummt)  ^ he  means  that  the  interests  of 
culture  suffer  from  this  preoccupation  with  external  matters. 
Again,  “Can  one  interest  oneself  in  the  German  Empire? 
Where  is  the  new  thought?  ...  To  rule  and  help  the  highest 
thought  to  victory — that  is  the  only  thing  that  could  interest 
me  in  Germany.  Of  a certain  statesman  (Bismarck,  pre- 
sumably), he  says,  “Strong.  Strong.  Strong  and  mad!  Not 
great  I”  ^ He  has  misgivings  about  the  book.  Will  to  Power,  he 
is  preparing,  wishing  that  it  could  be  written  in  French,  so  as 
not  to  have  the  appearance  of  giving  countenance  to  German 
imperial  aspirations.^  Indeed,  he  becomes  almost  contemptu- 
ous: “Power  is  tiresome  {langweilig) — witness  the  Empire.”!^® 

Ibid.,  § 204;  cf.  Emerson  of  Americans,  “We  are  great  by  exclu- 
sion, grasping,  and  egotism”  (“Success”  in  Society  and  Solitude). 

Zarathustra,  I,  xi. 

“ Werke,  XIV,  353,  § 216. 

Cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 205;  The  Antichristian,  § 27. 

Cf.  Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  §11;  IV,  xiii,  §3  (the  “ Pobel-Miscli- 
mascli  ” are  the  “ Herren  von  Heute”);  Werke,  XIV,  218,  § 440  (lower 
kind  of  men  •yictorioMS— strange  clashing  of  two  principles  of  morality). 

Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  § 11. 

^''Twilight  etc.,  viii,  § 1;  cf.  Werke,  XIII,  350-1,  § 870. 

Werke,  XIII,  352,  § 872;  cf.  XIV,  374,  § 251  (on  the  lowering  effect 
of  national  egoism  and  hate). 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 241. 

= ' Werke,  XIV,  420,  § 304. 

Ibid.,  244,  § 505. 


358 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


All  this  is  not  taken  into  account  by  those — and  they  are 
a host,  all  the  way  from  college  presidents  down  to  penny-a- 
liners  in  the  newspapers — who  think  that  Nietzsche  proclaims 
an  indiscriminate  “gospel  of  might,”  having  particularly  in 
mind  might  of  the  “wild  beast”  type;^^  and  we  shall  have  to 
proceed  with  a little  care  in  connecting  his  ethical  end,  as 
defined  in  the  previous  chapter,  with  will  to  power.  In  a way 
the  matter  was  problematical  to  him.  He  makes  a note, 
“Rule?  Force  my  type  on  others?  Horrible  (grdsslich)  ! Is 
not  my  happiness  just  in  contemplating  a variety  of  types? 
Problem.”®^  Indeed,  he  writes  to  a friend  about  his  proposed 
book.  Will  to  Power,  “I  have  not  gone  beyond  tentatives,  intro- 
ductions, promises  of  all  sorts.  ...  It  has  been,  all  in  all,  a 
torture,  and  I have  no  more  courage  to  think  about  it.  In  ten 
years  I shall  do  better.  If  Nietzsche  had  lived  even  half 
so  long,  he  might  have  produced  something  that  would  have 
made  his  views  quite  clear ; as  it  is,  we  have  to  do  the  work  of 
clarification  more  or  less  ourselves. 

Ill 

As  nearly  as  I can  make  out,  the  logic  of  his  procedure  was 
something  like  this : — The  world  at  bottom  is  a complex  of 
forces,  and  each  pushes  itself  as  far  as  it  can — each  on  its  inner 
side  is  a will  to  power.  There  is  no  law  over  these  forces 
restraining  them,  but  they  are  held  in  check  by  one  another. 
Sometimes  order  may  come  from  a simple  balancing.  But  some 
may  be  stronger  than  others:  there  are  different  levels  or 
gradations  of  force.  A higher  level  may  make  the  lower  sub- 
ject. What  we  call  the  organic  world  masters  thus  to  a certain 
extent  the  inorganic,  and  the  higher  organic  the  lower.  Force 
becomes  more  sublimated,  spiritual.  Man,  the  weakest  thing  in 
nature  from  one  point  of  view,  controls  through  intelligence.^ 
He  is  after  power,  like  every  other  energy  in  nature,  but  he  has 
this  peculiar  means.  The  single  individual’s  weakness,  too,  leads 
him  to  combine  with  others,  groups  arise,  and  morality,  the  law 

Cf.  J.  G.  Hibben’s  chapter,  “ The  Gospel  of  Might,”  in  A Defense 
of  Prejudice. 

Werke,  XII,  365,  § 706. 

Letter  to  Peter  Gast,  February  13,  1887. 

Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 856. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  AND  WILL  TO  POWER  359 


of  group-life,  becomes  as  vital  to  him  as  intelligence — it  is  a 
means  to  power,  just  as  intelligence  is.^  And  group-life  once 
attained,  and  the  existence  of  the  species  becoming  tolerably 
secure,  the  underlying  urge  of  force  may  push  to  higher  levels 
still  and  use  the  group  itself  as  a means.  It  is  the  peculiar 
mark  of  Nietzsche’s  ethical  thinking  that  he  conceives  an  end 
for  man  beyond  society.  Society  is  a form  of  human  existence, 
but  not  the  highest  form.  Great  individuals  spring  from  so- 
ciety, but  they  rise  above  it — the  social  individual  is  not  the 
highest  type.^®  The  lonely,  the  solitary,  those  whose  occupa- 
tions and  interests  are  beyond  the  sympathy  and  perhaps  even 
the  comprehension  of  most  of  us,  who  are  half  like  Epicurean 
Gods  apart  from  the  world  and  move  like  stars  in  orbits  of  their 
own — they  are  the  real  end  of  humanity,  they  alone  are  properly 
ends  in  themselves,  mankind  existing  for  them,  not  they  for 
mankind,  save  as  from  afar  they  shine  upon  us,  and  lift  our 
hearts.  Yet  the  driving  force  of  the  whole  process  from  hum- 
blest plant  to  possible  superman  is  will  to  power,  will  not  to 
be,  but  to  be  more,  each  level  putting  itself  on  top  of  what  lies 
beneath  it,  and  being  a new  level  only  as  it  does  so — so  that  if 
the  plant  had  not  had  a will  to  dominate,  it  would  never  have 
emerged  from  the  lower  inorganic  realm,  if  the  animal  had  not 
had  the  will  to  dominate,  it  would  never  have  differentiated 
itself  from  the  plant,  if  man  had  not  had  the  will  to  dominate 
and  put  plants  and  animals  under  his  feet,  he  would  never  have 
become  what  he  distinctively  is ; and  if  somewhere  among  men 
now,  there  is  not  the  will  to  dominate  over  other  men,  to  use 
the  rank  and  file  as  means,  instruments  to  ends  beyond  them, 
there  can  never  be  a higher  order  of  mankind  or  superman.  In 
other  words,  will  to  power  is  the  driving  force  in  the  whole 
scheme  of  cosmic  evolution,  and  if  there  is  to  be  any  further 
advance,  will  to  power  must  still  be  the  inner  impulsion. 

If  then,  as  stated  in  the  preceding  chapter,  life  and  the 
highest  possible  ascent  of  life  is  Nietzsche’s  moral  aim,  will  to 
power  turns  out  to  be  vitally  related  to  it — is  indeed  but  a 
closer  and  more  interior  determination  or  definition  of  it.  One 

There  may  be  different  kinds  of  morality  in  different  groups,  but 
all  alike  have  this  as  their  hidden  spring  {Zarathustra,  I,  xv). 

See  Simmel’s  illuminating  remarks,  op.  cit.,  pp.  206-11. 


360 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


might  even  say  that  will  to  power  itself  sets  the  moral  aim 
which  Nietzsche  proposes — only  instead  of  working  blindly  and 
instinctively,  it  now  deliberately  formulates  what  it  desires. 
“Life  is  to  me  instinct  for  growth,  for  permanence,  for  the 
amassing  of  force,  for  power.  It  is  true  that  the  feeling 
of  power  and  for  power  may  be  slight  in  some;  it  may  be 
almost  non-existent  in  expiring  forms  of  life;  all  the  same, 
it  is,  as  Nietzsche  conceives  things,  the  essence  of  the  living 
process,  and  only  as  it  increases,  can  there  be  more  and  higher 
life.  In  a word,  if  life  and  the  highest  reach  of  life  are  the 
aim,  here  is  the  pulse  of  the  machine,  and  this  it  is  that  must 
be  quickened. 

Nietzsche  accordingly  says: 

“Formula  of  our  happiness:  a Yes,  a No,  a straight  line,  a 
mark  to  aim  at  (Ziel). 

“What  is  good?  All  that  increases  the  feeling  of  power, 
the  will  to  power,  power  itself  in  man. 

“What  is  bad  (schlecht)  ? All  that  comes  from  weakness. 

“What  is  happiness?  The  feeling  that  power  is  growing — 
that  an  obstacle  is  overcome. 

“Not  contentment,  but  more  power;  not  peace,  but  war;  not 
virtue,  but  ability  {TilchtigJceit) — virtue  in  Renaissance  style, 
virtu,  virtue  free  from  moralic  acid.  ’ ’ 

But  while  power  is  the  end,®  and  but  a concrete  inner  ren- 
dering of  life  itself,  it  is  plainly  power  on  the  human  level  and 
of  the  human  sort  that  Nietzsche  has  in  mind — not  power  of 
any  and  every  description.  He  does  not  set  up  as  a standard 
the  power  of  physical  nature,  or  that  of  tyrants,  or  of  priests 
or  of  the  mass  or  of  an  empire,  but  power  such  as  essentially 
belongs  to  the  evolution  of  the  human  type — the  final  ideal 
being  the  full  and  perfect  efflorescence  of  that  type,  the  domina- 
tion in  the  world  of  men  and  things  of  just  that.  If  mere  ab- 


The  Antichristian,  § 6. 

Ibid.,  §§  1,  2.  Other  statements  are:  “I  estimate  man  accord- 
ing to  the  amount  of  power  and  the  fullness  of  his  will”  (Will  to 
Power,  § 382);  “the  strongest  in  body  and  soul  are  the  best — ground- 
principle  for  Zarathustra  ” (Werlce,  XII,  410)  ; “I  teach  ‘No’  to  all  that 
weakens,  exhausts,  ‘ Yes  ’ to  all  that  strengthens,  treasures  up  force, 
justifies  the  feeling  of  force”  (Will  to  Power,  §54)  ; “to  go  on  spinning 
the  whole  warp  and  woof  of  life,  and  to  do  it  in  such  a way  that  the 
thread  ever  becomes  stronger — that  is  the  task”  (ibid.,  § 674). 


THE  MORAL  AIM  AND  WILL  TO  POWER  S6l 


stract  power  were  the  ideal,  then  since  the  brute  forces  of  the 
universe  may  sometime  get  the  better  of  life,  that  would  be 
an  ideal  consummation ; or,  since  the  weak  by  combination  may 
(and  actually  do  in  our  modern  democratic  world)  make  them- 
selves masters  of  the  strong,  then  that  is  an  end  to  be  desired — 
any  chance  force  or  set  of  forces  that  happened  to  get  on  top 
at  any  time  would  represent  the  desired  end.  Indeed,  if  any 
de  facto  might  makes  right,  a question  would  arise  as  to  the  sense 
of  setting  up  power  as  an  ideal  at  all,  since  it  effectuates  itself 
anyway — there  being  no  situation  in  the  world  that  is  not  stata- 
ble as  the  result  of  the  action  and  interaction  of  forces,  in  which 
some  get  the  upper  hand.  But  Nietzsche  is  not  hete,  and  so  far 
as  he  speaks  of  power  as  a desirable  end  for  man  he  means  just 
a power  that  does  not  necessarily  effectuate  itself,  that  has  to 
be  striven  for  and  may  or  may  not  be  attained — it  is  emphat- 
ically a power  that  requires  a will  to  power. 

IV 

Even  so,  however,  it  may  be  said  that  power  is  a vague 
conception — too  much  so  to  give  us  any  definite  guidance  in 
acting  or  judging  of  things.  Let  us  see  then  what  becomes  of 
it  in  Nietzsche’s  hands — how  he  uses  it. 

In  the  first  place  we  notice  that  in  the  background  of  his 
mind  there  is  a certain  sense,  for  all  said  and  done,  of  the  inse- 
curity of  life.  Mankind  is  more  or  less  to  him,  as  to  Matthew 
Arnold,  “a  feeble  wavering  line.”  Life  is  not  an  assured  gift, 
it  rests  on  effort,  toil,  on  the  will  to  live — so  that  there  is  sense 
in  making  it  an  ideal,  and  in  exalting  ideals  of  power.  Scho- 
penhauer and  the  Buddhists  actually  propose  to  weaken  the 
will  to  live.  Certain  types  of  Christianity  practically  tend  the 
same  way.  Nietzsche  feels  that  there  is  need  of  a fortifying 
doctrine.  It  is  perhaps  something  to  make  life  and  power  in 
all  their  vagueness  an  end,  as  against  non-life. 

But  more  than  this,  the  construing  life  as  will  to  power 
enables  him  to  judge  between  different  types  of  life — those  ani- 
mated by  less  will  to  power  ranking  lower  than  those  with  full 
will  to  power : the  descending  and  ascending  lines  of  life  are  not 
of  equal  value.  Indeed,  on  a general  basis  of  this  sort  he  con- 
ceives of  the  possibility  of  a properly  scientific  ethics  arising. 


362 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


which  should  stand  to  past  morals  something  as  chemistry  does 
to  alchemy.  Knowledge  being  scientific,  as  it  can  apply  number 
and  measure,  an  attempt  is  in  order  to  see  if  a scientific  order 
of  values  cannot  be  built  “on  a number  and  measure  scale  of 
force,”  ascent  in  the  scale  signifying  increase  of  value,  descent 
diminution  of  value — all  other  estimations  being  prejudices, 
naivetes,  misunderstandings.  He  is  aware  that  we  cannot  carry 
out  the  program  as  yet,  that  we  must  have  recourse  to  physiology 
and  medicine,  to  sociology  and  psychology,  and  that  these 
sciences  are  not  yet  developed  enough  to  give  us  with  confidence 
the  data  we  need.^®  All  the  same  he  throws  out  the  general  idea, 
and  we  find  him  following  it  in  a rough  approximate  way  in 
appraising  not  only  dilferiug  types  of  men,  but  even  differing 
moralities.  For  example : 

(1)  He  rates  great  individuals  differently  from  the  ordinary 
social  man,  because  they  can  more  or  less  stand  alone,  have 
greater  strength.  Gregarious  creatures  are,  as  a rule,  indi- 
vidually weak — that  is  why  they  combine ; they  crave  power 
(as  everything  in  the  world  does),  but  they  get  it  in  this  way. 
In  packs,  herds,  communities  they  are  strong.  But  the  leaders 
of  the  flock  and  individuals  of  the  solitary  type  (like  the  lion 
and  the  eagle  among  animals)  have  resources  in  themselves — 
they  have  strength  and  to  spare,  can  give  help  instead  of  need- 
ing it,  or  can  prey  on  others  and  take  them  captive.  As  the 
stronger,  they  stand  higher  in  Nietzsche’s  scale  of  value.  Of 
course,  no  independence  is  absolute  and  Nietzsche  is  well  aware 
of  it;  still  beings  are  graded  in  his  eyes  according  as  they  are 
more  or  less  capable  of  it.“ 

(2)  Moralities  rank  differently  according  as  they  spring 
from  strength  or  weakness  (for,  aside  from  the  morality  in- 
volved in  any  kind  of  social  existence,  there  are,  according  to 
Nietzsche,  special  moralities,  bound  up  with  the  conditions  of 
existence  of  particular  peoples  or  social  classes).  He  finds,  for 
instance,  a difference  of  tone,  of  emphasis,  even  of  special  valua- 
tions, in  the  moralities  of  the  ruler  and  subject  classes  in  the 
past — this  we  have  already  seen.  And  why  is  the  “master- 
morality”  higher  than  the  “slave-morality”?  Because  it  comes 

Cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 103;  Will  to  Power,  § 710. 

Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 886. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  AND  WILL  TO  POWER  363 


from  strength,  formulates  the  conditions  of  life  of  the  stronger 
class.  The  sense  of  overflowing  power  runs  through  it,  while 
the  slave -morality  is  correlated  with  weakness  and  the  sense  of 
need.  If  we  look  through  the  circle  of  virtues  and  excellences 
put  in  the  first  rank  by  each  class — on  the  one  hand,  inde- 
pendence, proud  self-respect,  honor  only  for  equals  with  at  best 
condescending  care  or  pity  for  the  rest,  masterfulness  and 
daring  of  all  sorts,  contempt  of  danger,  also  capacity  for  otium, 
taste  for  useless  knowledge  and  accomplishments;  on  the  other 
hand,  helpfulness,  sympathy,  modesty,  obedience,  patience,  hu- 
mility, industry,  prudence,  invention,  and  whatever  intellectual 
virtues  serve  the  practical  needs  of  life — we  see  that  the  one 
set  of  virtues  and  excellences  is  as  naturally  the  idealism  of 
an  aristocratic  class,  full  of  the  pride  and  abounding  vigor 
of  life,  as  the  other  is  that  of  the  hard-pressed,  much-suffering 
masses  of  men.  And  the  aristocratic  morality  ranks  higher  just 
because  it  comes  from  the  higher,  i.e.,  stronger,  type  of  men. 

Nietzsche  comments  on  a matter  that  is  of  interest  in  this 
connection  and  it  may  be  well  to  take  it  up  at  this  point.  How 
shall  we  explain  the  historical  antagonism  of  morality  to  will 
to  power?  Perhaps  there  is  no  more  prevalent  notion  than  that 
of  a contrast  between  power  and  right.  Now  Nietzsche  admits 
a certain  relative  justification  for  the  common  attitude.  Power 
and  the  will  to  it  are  sometimes  dangerous  (particularly  certaiu 
crude  forms  of  it),  and  have  to  be  held  in  check.^^^  And  yet  he 
finds  a certain  speciousness  in  the  antagonism  when  stated 
broadly,  as  it  usually  is.  “Morality”  is  not  so  much  antithetical 
to  will  to  power,  as  a concealed  form  of  it — that  is,  behind  it 
lies  the  will  to  power  of  the  mass,  or  old-time  subject-class.. 
Considering  itself  as  the  equivalent  of  the  group  (it  does  of 
course  compose  the  majority  of  it)  the  mass  demands  (and 
commands — this  an  essential  feature  in  any  morality)  that  all 
individuals  shall  serve  the  group,  shall  be  good  according  to  its 
understanding  of  the  term  and  avoid  evil  as  it  conceives  it,  that 
none  shall  have  separate  standards,  personal  aims,  or  will  to 
power  on  their  own  account — it  fears  any  one  who  takes  things 
into  his  own  hands  and  opposes  him  (naturally  loving  those  who 
love  it,  and  do  its  will).  But  this  is  only  saying  that  the  mass 

§§  720,  1025. 


364 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


wishes  to  prevail  (have  supreme  power),  prevail  with  its  moral- 
ity and  by  its  morality — for  it  is  not  merely  a question  of 
physical  force.  And  how  far  the  instincts  and  desires  of  the 
mass  have  prevailed  is  indicated  in  the  very  fact  that  makes  the 
starting-point  of  this  paragraph — they  have  actually  succeeded 
in  identifying  morality  with  iheir  morality  and  have  made  the 
idea  go  into  current  thought  and  speech  that  morality  and  power 
are  antithetical  things.  But  the  power  to  which  “morality”  is 
antithetical  is  only  the  power  of  strong  men  who  make  their 
own  laws  of  conduct  (persons  proper)  ; morality  itself  is  will 
to  power — only  it  is  the  will  of  the  weaker  sort  of  men  and  of 
■a  sort,  which  takes  easily,  as  the  weaker,  to  deception  (conscious 
or  unconscious).  In  other  words,  the  historical  antagonism  of 
morality  to  will  to  power  roots  itself  in  the  antagonism  of  the 
mass  to  higher  individuals,  of  the  average  to  the  exceptions,  of 
the  weak  to  the  strong.  Occasionally  Nietzsche  turns  the  tables 
on  morality,  saying  that  it  is  itself  unmoral — meaning  accord- 
ing to  its  own  specious  antithesis  of  morality  to  will  to  power; 
for  it  is  itself  an  assertion  of  will  to  power.^^ 

In  fact,  he  finds  will  to  power  in  varying  degrees  practically 
everywhere — though  it  assumes  ditferent  forms  and  sometimes 
hides  itself.  It  often  exists  in  the  sickly  as  truly  as  in  the  well — 
none  can  surpass,  for  instance,  a feeble,  sickly  woman  in  refined 
ways  of  ruling,  oppressing,  tyrannizing.^^  Indeed,  so  many  and 
such  varying  wills  to  power  are  described  by  Nietzsche  that  one 
is  sometimes  led  to  ask  whether  power  and  will  to  power  make 
any  kind  of  a standard  to  him.  As  he  reads  history  and  par- 
ticularly modern  history,  the  instinct  for  power  of  the  mass  has 
actually  triumphed  over  great  individuals  (or  those  who  might 
have  been  such) — a result  so  deplorable  and  pitiful  in  his  eyes 
that  one  might  parody  his  state  of  mind  by  saying  that  his 
appeal  is  to  “come  to  the  help  of  the  mighty  against  the  weak”! 
— and  yet  a result,  to  which  as  a triumph  of  power  his  own 
principles  would  seem  to  oblige  him  to  assent.  Our  perplexity 
and  confusion  are  only  resolved  (so  far  as  they  are  resolved®) 

Cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  274,  401,  461,  720,  721,  and  Dolson’s  happy 
explanatory  statement,  as  against  Hollitsclier’s  Friedrich  Nietzsche,  in 
the  Philosophical  Revieiv,  May,  1905,  p.  373.  Even  the  Greeks  had  not 
the  courage  [insiglit?]  to  transcend  the  antithesis  (Will  to  Power,  § 428). 

Genealogy  etc..  Ill,  § 14. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  AND  WILL  TO  POWER  365 


as  we  remember  that  there  are  different  grades  or  levels  of 
power  to  his  mind,  and  above  all  that  he  is  always  thinking  of 
the  individual  specimen  of  humanity,  the  type.  The  mass,  by 
combining,  undoubtedly  make  themselves  stronger  than  the 
“strong,”  but  they  are  none  the  less  poorer,  feebler  specimens 
of  our  kind.^ 

(3)  Two  or  three  further  instances  of  Nietzsche’s  fixing 
rank  according  to  power  may  be  cited.  The  morality  of  men 
like  Heraclitus  and  Plato  is  something  very  different  from  the 
morality  of  subjection  such  as  is  practised  by  the  ordinary 
members  of  society.  It  is  the  morality  of  those  who  would  nat- 
urally have  ruledj  in  society,  but  who  in  a time  of  change  and 
dissolution  can  only  rule  themselves.^  The  ranking  in  this  case 
is  indeed  hardly  different  from  that  which  most  of  us  would 
instinctively  make.  Our  ordinary  judgments,  too,  of  vanity, 
hypocrisy,  and  mere  prudence  seem  to  rest  on  the  basis  of  a 
standard  like  Nietzsche’s.  Why  do  we  look  down  on  a vain 
person?  Because  he  wants  to  please,  to  be  what  others  would 
like,  in  this  showing  a lack  of  original  creative  force — he  is 
“empty.”  We  judge  an  unreal,  hypocritical  person  in  the  same 
way — the  contemptible  thing  about  him  is  his  exceeding  defer- 
ence to  the  standards  of  others.  So  the  typically  prudent  person 
is  not  set  on  high,  because  something  is  lacking  in  him — the 
abounding  energy  that  sometimes  makes  one  headlong,  frank, 
defiant  to  one’s  cost.  On  the  other  hand,  love  and  unselfishness 
suggest  one  who  overfiows  in  power,  and  the  very  counting  of 
costs  that  ranks  low,  when  it  is  a dictate  of  prudence,  wins  an 
altogether  different  estimation  when  a great  love,  e.g.,  love  for 
the  community,  lies  back  of  it.® 

Nietzsche  appears  to  have  had  in  mind  a systematic  classi- 
fication of  men  and  thiiigs  according  to  the  following  schema: 

“ What  springs  from  strength. 

What  springs  from  weakness. 

And  whence  have  we  sprung? 

The  great  choice.”  " 

“As  to  the  supreme  significance  of  the  individual  specimen,  see  Will 
to  Power,  §§  679-82,  713,  and  Simmel’s  remarks,  op.  cit.,  pp.  206-10. 

“ Werke,  XI,  251,  § 221. 

“ lUd.,  XIII,  177-8,  § 406. 

Ibid.,  XVI,  434. 


366 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


Though  he  never  accomplished  the  classification,  it  has  been 
attempted  in  a most  interesting  way  by  Professor  Richter,  who 
makes  a survey  and  hypothetical  valuation  of  varying  religions, 
philosophies,  moralities,  types  of  art,  personalities,  and  cultures, 
from  this  point  of  view.'*® 

V 

But  now  let  us  attend  a little  more  closely  to  what  Nietzsche 
means  by  power.  He  makes  no  formal  definition  of  it,‘  and 
does  not  attempt  to  say  what  is  its  final  metaphysical  nature.’ 
He  appears  to  take  the  concept  simply  as  he  finds  it  in  common 
use — the  essential  element  being  ascendency,  effectual  superi- 
ority of  some  sort.  By  giving  it  an  inner  turn,  taking  it  prac- 
tically as  will  to  power,  he  indicates  that  it  is  not  anything  static 
that  he  has  in  mind,  but  a principle  of  movement  and  progress 
(or  at  least  change).  The  implication  is  that  there  is  no  result 
that  does  not  tend  to  be  transcended,  perhaps  destroyed. 
“Whatever  I create  and  however  much  I love  it,  I have  soon  to 
be  hostile  to  it,”  says  Zarathustra.^®  Power,  at  least  will  to 
power,  is  eternally  avid.’'  Hence  successive  grades  or  levels  of 
power,  a Rangordnung.  It  is  from  inattention  to  this  that 
Nietzsche  is  much  misconceived — as  if  “power”  must  always 
be  on  a physical  level!  Emerson  speaks  of  a “scale  of 
powers;”®”  Nietzsche’s  idea  is  the  same.  Emerson  advances  the 
paradoxical  idea  that  it  is  “not  talent  but  sensibility  which  is 
the  best,”  and  Nietzsche  finds  power  in  things  which  are  often 
contrasted  with  it.  But  the  higher  sorts  of  power,  though  so 
different  from  the  lower  that  they  seem  antithetical  and  a part 
of  another  order  of  reality,  are  really  extensions,  refinements, 
spiritualizations  of  the  lower  sorts,  and  have  the  same  essential 
character.’  They  too  give  predominance,  ascendency,  though, 
in  other  ways,  by  different  means.  Indeed,  it  would  seem  to 
go  along  with  the  general  view  that  the  refinements,  spiritual- 
izations of  power  should  be  just  intensifications  of  it — since 
only  on  this  basis  can  their  ascendency  over  the  grosser  forms 
be  explained.™ 

Nietzsche  gives  us  no  set  scale  of  powers,  and  I can  only 

Op.  cit.,  pp.  240-54.  Zarathustra,  II,  xii. 

'““Success,”  in  Society  and  Solitude. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  AND  WILL  TO  POWER  367 


offer  more  or  less  vague  and  scattering  illustrations  of  the  gen- 
eral idea  that  appears  to  be  in  his  mind.  First,  he  recognizes 
power  on  the  physical  or  rather  animal  level.®^  He  does  this 
so  frankly  that  he  has  given  great  offense.  Who  has  not  heard 
of  the  “blond  beast  roving  greedily  after  prey  and  victory,” 
whom  he  is  supposed  to  celebrate?  Indeed,  “blond  beast,” 
“superman,”  and  other  striking  phrases  have  become  catch- 
words, most  of  those  who  use  them  having  scarcely  an  idea  of 
what  Nietzsche  meant  by  them.  As  a matter  of  fact,  the  phrase 
“blond  beast”  occurs  just  twice,  so  far  as  I remember,  in  Nietz- 
sche’s sixteen- volumed  works — the  important  passage  being 
§ 11  of  the  First  Essay  of  Genealogy  of  Morals,  the  other,  which 
puts  the  phrase  in  quotation  marks,  being  § 2 of  a chapter  of 
the  later  Twilight  of  the  Idols,  entitled  “The  ‘Improvers’  of 
Mankind.”®  The  connection  in  which  the  phrase  stands  in  the 
principal  passage  is  something  like  this : — Nietzsche  is  continu- 
ing his  earlier  discussions  of  the  natural  history  of  morals  (in 
essentially  the  same  spirit,  I may  say,  as  our  English  and  Amer- 
ican anthropologists  and  sociologists,  though  perhaps  in  a finer, 
more  intimate,  or  at  least  more  venturesome  way),  and  now  is 
giving  his  view  of  the  contrasted  types  of  morality  which  con- 
quering and  subject  classes  naturally  develope.  By  way  of  illus- 
tration he  draws  a more  or  less  imaginative  picture  of  the  earliest 
Aryan  races  as  they  from  time  to  time  descended  on  the  aborig- 
inal inhabitants  of  Europe,  and,  with  all  manner  of  violence, 
reduced  them  to  subjection.®  Whether  Hellenic,  Roman,  Ger- 
manic, Scandinavian,  these  marauding  tribes  were  of  a common 
fair  or  blond  type  (in  this  Nietzsche  simply  follows  the  prevail- 
ing anthropological  view)  ; to  quote  his  words,  “at  the  basis  of 
all  these  superior  races,  the  robber-animal  is  not  to  be  mistaken, 
the  splendid  blond  beast  roving  greedily  after  prey  and  vic- 

“ It  should  be  said  that  the  predominance  he  recognizes  is  always 
that  of  body  and  soul;  in  speaking  of  the  robber-type  which  lies  at  the 
basis  of  aristocratic  societies,  he  says,  “ its  superiority  lay  not  primarily 
in  physical  force,  but  in  force  of  soul — they  were  the  more  complete  men  ” 
(Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 257). 

'“I  do  not  mean  that  an  equivalent  expression  does  not  sometimes 
occur — e.g.,  in  Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 17  (“a  troop  of  blond  robber-animals”). 

With  this  passage  may  be  compared  the  description  of  the  memorials 
of  the  founding  of  states  to  be  discerned  everywhere — lands  laid  waste, 
towns  destroyed,  men  made  wild,  consuming  hatred  between  peoples,  in 
Werke,  IX,  155. 


368 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


tory.”  It  is  simply  a pictorial,  but  perhaps  for  all  that  quite 
exact  description  of  our  distant  Aryan  forefathers.  In  the 
other  passage,  superior  (vornehme)  Germans  of  the  early 
Middle  Ages  are  spoken  of  as  fine  examples  of  the  “blond 
beast.  ’ ’ 

Undoubtedly  Nietzsche  in  a certain  sense  “celebrates” 
these  conquering  Aryans.  Many  of  us  too  are  proud  of  our 
descent  from  them,  though  Nietzsche  undermines  our  feeling 
somewhat  by  suggesting  that  the  blood  of  most  of  us  is  probably 
much  mixed.  Relatively  to  those  whom  they  conquered  they 
were  the  more  vigorous  stock  and  had  the  higher  promise  of 
life — even  supposing  that  the  subjected  populations  were  more 
industrious,  more  peaceful,  more  moral  (in  the  sense  in  which 
morality  stands  for  sympathy  and  mutual  help).  Overflowing 
vitality  is  the  condition  of  all  that  is  really  excellent  in  Nietz- 
sche’s estimation.  Not  in  lessening  or  depressing  this,  but  in 
refining  and  spiritualizing  it  is  the  way  of  progress.  But  it  does 
not  follow  that  those  in  whom  vitality  has  risen  to  higher  and 
finer  forms  shall  make  the  “blond  beast”  (in  his  early  form) 
their  model  and  shall  go  back  to  marauding  and  killing  as  our 
fathers  did.  We  may  indeed  do  it  on  occasion,  or  something 
like  it — modern  European  states  are  doing  it  in  their  colonial 
ventures,^  though  even  so  the  work  might  be  done  in  a finer  and 
less  bungling  manner.  But  in  general  it  is  no  more  necessary 
that  power  shall  always  remain  on  the  animal  level  than  that 
a grown-up  man  shall  repeat  the  exuberances  of  his  youth,  and 
it  is  gratuitious  to  imagine  that  Nietzsche  proposes  any  such 
thing.  All  the  same,  this  seems  to  be  the  ordinary  interpreta- 
tion of  Nietzsche,  and  it  is  sometimes  shared  by  those  from  whom 
one  expects  more  discriminating  judgments — professional 
scholars  and  philosophers."  Among  the  few  to  discriminate 
are  Professor  Riehl,  Professor  Rene  Berthelot,  and  Professor 
Frank  Thilly."  While  as  against  weakness,  stagnation,  or  de- 
generation, with  whatever  accompaniment  of  refined  feelings 
and  peaceful  manners,  the  “blond  beast,”  the  primitive  Aryan, 
was  the  better  man  and  had  more  promise  for  the  race,  this  is 
not  true  when  the  contrast  is  with  a higher,  more  spiritual  de- 
velopment of  the  same  forces  that  were  in  him.  Emerson  speaks 
“ Cf.  Werke,  XIII,  326,  § 797. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  AND  WILL  TO  POWER  369 


in  the  same  spirit,  when  he  says,  “In  polities  and  in  trade, 
bruisers  and  pirates  are  of  better  promise  than  talkers  and 
clerks”;  and  again,  “In  a good  lord  there  must  first  be  a good 
animal,  at  least  to  the  extent  of  yielding  the  incomparable  ad- 
vantage of  animal  spirits.  ’ ’ ^ Most  valuations  are  relative,  some 
things  are  better  than  other  things  (though  still  other  things 
may  be  better  than  these) — and  there  is  no  need,  nor  is  it  cor- 
rect, to  attribute  absolute  valuations  at  this  particular  point  to 
Nietzsche.*^  The  extent  to  which  Nietzsche  attached  finer  and 
higher  meanings  to  power  than  mere  brute  force  will  appear  as 
I go  on. 

But  before  doing  so  a word  should  be  said  as  to  what  Nietz- 
sche regards  as  the  democratic  misunderstanding  of  will  to 
power,  namely  the  identification  of  it  with  ambition,  love  of 
glory.  Napoleon,  Cassar,  Alexander  are  often  cited  as  instances 
— as  if,  says  Nietzsche,  just  these  men  were  not  despisers  of 
glory Glory  is,  of  course,  honor  in  the  eyes  of  others,  it  is 
distinctively  a craving  of  the  social  man  (i.e.,  of  one  who  is  not 
sufficient  unto  himself)  ; the  desire  for  it  is  akin  to  vanity  and 
springs  from  weakness.^  But  it  was  not  the  notice  of  others 
that  these  men  sought — power  itself  was  what  they  were  after 
and  this  is  one  of  the  reasons  why  they  rank  so  high.  He  also 
criticises  the  view  of  Helvetius  that  one  strives  for  power  in 
order  to  get  the  pleasures  that  are  at  the  command  of  the  pow- 
erful — this,  I might  say,  as  many  of  our  wealthy  (or  becoming- 
wealthy)  class  in  America  do,  enjoyments,  luxuries,  comfort 
being  in  the  background  of  their  mind.  But  this  is  to  confuse 
the  strong  man  with  enjoyment-seekers — what  such  an  one  really 
wishes  is  to  put  forth  his  power,  not  to  eat  sweets,  have  country 
houses,  live  softly,  and  so  on.®^  As  Nietzsche  conceives  aris- 
tocracy, even  the  idea  of  it  scarcely  exists  in  America. 

Nor  is  Nietzsche’s  “strong  man”  a swashbuckler.  That 
this  is  not  what  he  means  is  implied  in  a remark  he  makes  (per- 

Will  to  Power,  § 751. 

Cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §261  (there  is  nothing  harder  for  a 
really  superior  man  to  understand  than  vanity). 

Will  to  Power,  § 751. 

Cf.  Werke,  XIII,  177,  § 405  (happiness  is  not  the  aim,  but  feeling 
of  power).  Happiness  is  an  indeterminate  conception  anyway:  “not 
‘ happiness  follows  virtue,’  but  the  strong  man  fixes  his  happy  state  as 
virtue”  (Will  to  Power,  § 1026). 


370 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


haps  unjustly)  about  present-day  Germans.  They  think,  he 
says,  ‘ ‘ that  force  must  reveal  itself  in  hardness  and  cruelty  and 
then  they  subject  themselves  gladly  and  admiringly.  . . . That 
there  is  force  in  mildness  and  quietness  they  do  not  readily  be- 
lieve. They  miss  force  in  Goethe  and  think  that  Beethoven  has 
more;  and  in  this  they  err.”®®  Again  he  says,  “When  one  sits 
well  on  a horse  he  steals  an  enemy’s  courage  and  an  onlooker’s 
heart — why  wilt  thou  still  attack  ? Sit  like  a conquering  one ! ” 
Moreover,  power  by  no  means  necessarily  intimidates,  he  thinks, 
and  when  punishment  is  attempted  with  this  sole  end  in  view 
it  is  often  a sign  that  real  power  is  lacking — a sign  of  doubt 
of  one’s  power.  Indeed,  Nietzsche’s  idea  of  a natural  lord  of 
men  is  often  not  of  an  oppressor  at  all,  but  of  one  who  brings 
relief,  benefit.®^  He  is  one  “who  can  lead  a cause,  carry  out  a 
resolve,  be  loyal  to  an  idea,  hold  fast  a woman,  punish  and 
overthrow  a rascal — a man  who  has  his  anger  and  his  sword 
and  to  whom  the  weak  and  suffering  and  oppressed,  and  even 
animals  gladly  turn  and  naturally  belong.”®^  His  thought  of 
the  future  is  that  the  European  masses  who  are  now  being 
mixed,  averaged,  democratized,  will  sooner  or  later  need  a 
strong  man  as  they  need  their  daily  bread.®®  M.  Faguet  over- 
looks this  side  of  the  matter  when  he  represents  Nietzsche  as 
teaching  that  the  higher  class  are  to  hold  down  the  mass  and 
keep  them  at  their  tasks  by  force.®^  The  summit  of  power,  in 
his  conception,  is  just  in  making  that  cruder  sort  of  power 
unnecessary.  If  we  use  violence  against  another,  we  may  of 
course  subject  him,  but  we  do  not  get  his  heart — and  therefore 
our  power  over  him  is  so  far  incomplete.®®  It  reminds  one  of 
what  Lorenzo  de’  Medici  said  after  foiling  the  Pitti  conspiracy 

Werfce,  XI,  363-4,  § 543.  Cf.  another  remark,  “I  have  found  force 
where  one  does  not  look  for  it,  in  simple,  mild,  and  agreeable  men  who 
have  not  the  slightest  desire  to  rule  ” — his  idea  being  that  strong  natures 
rule  anyway,  even  if  (as  he  says)  they  do  not  lift  a finger  and  during 
their  whole  life  bury  themselves  in  a garden. 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 354. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 199. 

Ibid.,  § 293. 

" Ibid.,  § 242. 

En  lisant  Nietzsche,  p.  344  ff.  Faguet  does,  however,  admit  that 
the  force  is  not  brutality,  or  at  least  brutal  manners,  for  he  says  that  in 
Nietzsche’s  dream  of  a superhuman  glite,  who  will  deliberately  conquer 
and  oppress,  he  always  makes  beautiful  manners  enter  (p.  307). 

Will  to  Power,  § 769. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  AND  WILL  TO  POWER  371 


against  his  house,  “He  only  knows  how  to  conquer,  who  knows 
how  to  forgive.”®® 

Indeed,  as  we  have  already  seen,  power  takes  to  Nietzsche’s 
mind  a new  turn  in  the  human  world  in  general.  Man  passes 
as  the  strongest  animal — but  why?  Because,  Nietzsche  an- 
swers, he  is  the  cunningest.  Intelligence  is  power  along  the 
human  line  of  evolution.  In  the  progress  of  mankind,  ever  less 
physical  force  is  necessary;  as  time  goes  on,  we  wisely  let  ma- 
chines work,  man  becomes  stronger  and  more  spiritual.®^  Once 
in  speaking  of  the  greatest  events  and  the  greatest  thoughts, 
he  corrects  himself;  “but  the  greatest  thoughts  are  the  greatest 
events.  ’ ’ ®®  He  even  allows  Zarathustra  to  say,  ‘ ‘ thoughts  that 
come  with  the  feet  of  doves  rule  the  world,”  and  he  gives  as 
an  instance  the  thought  of  good  and  evil : Zarathustra  had  seen 
many  lands  and  peoples  and  had  found  no  greater  power  on 
earth  than  this  category.®®  For  what  is  thinking  or  knowing? 
At  bottom  and  in  its  most  commonplace  form,  it  is  to  Nietzsche 
a kind  of  grasping  of  things  to  the  end  of  getting  control  over 
them,  making  an  idea  and  orderly  scheme  of  them  to  the  end 
of  control — the  senses,  memory,  all  develope  in  this  way : behind 
the  whole  process  is  the  instinct  for  power.  Philosophy  (as 
distinguished  from  ordinary  thinking)  is  a more  sublimated 
expression  of  the  same  instinct ; and  it  is  because  the  philosopher 
wants  the  best  conditions  for  expanding  his  force  and  reaching 
a maximum  of  power,  that  he  renounces  on  occasion  the  de- 
lights of  other  men,  such  as  home,  children,  family-ties,  even 
verging  towards  ascetic  ideas.'^®  And  the  difference  between  the 
mere  skeptic  or  critic  or  historian  in  philosophy  and  real  phi- 
losophers, i.e.,  constructive,  creative  thinkers,  is  a difference  in 
power.  The  former  can  think  to  the  extent  of  doubting  or 
analyzing  or  describing  but  are  incapable  of  more,  while  the 
latter  are  capable  and  from  the  fullness  and  overflow  of  their 

Roscoe’s  Life  of  Lorenzo  de’  Medici,  p.  87.  Cf.  what  Csesar  said,  in 
letting  his  enemies  of  Pompey’s  party  go  free  after  they  had  fallen  into 
his  hands:  “I  will  conquer  after  a new  fashion  and  fortify  myself  in  the 
possession  of  the  power  I acquire,  by  generosity  and  mercy.” 

Will  to  Power,  § 856;  cf.  § 544;  The  Antichristian,  §14;  Werke, 
XIV,  97,  § 207. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 285. 

‘^Zarathustra,  II,  xxii;  I,  xv. 

'"‘Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §9;  Genealogy  etc.,  Ill,  §7. 


372 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


energy  do  creative  workJ^  Equally  with  the  robber,  the 
barbarian,  and  adventurer  is  the  philosophic  innovator  after 
power,  only  it  is  the  supreme  kind  of  power  not  the  lesser/^ 
Nietzsche  speaks  of  the  calling  of  the  philosopher  as  a kingly 
one;  he  cites  Alcuin  the  Anglo-Saxon’s  definition  of  it,  prava 
corrigere  et  recta  corrohorare  et  sancta  suhlimare  (to  correct 
what  is  wicked,  to  strengthen  what  is  right,  and  to  lift  what  is 
sacred  on  high).”  There  is  something  of  the  C?esar  in  the 
philosopher’s  nature — Nietzsche  speaks  of  the  “Caesarian 
trainer  and  strong  man  of  culture”;  and  he  thinks  that  the  type 
of  philosopher  needed  in  the  future  will  he  bred  in  a caste 
accustomed  to  rule  and  will  be  its  highest  spiritualization.” 
For  the  function  of  the  philosopher  is  pre-eminently  to  be  a 
lawgiver,  not  merely  to  define  and  name  the  valuations  that 
are,”  but  to  say  what  ought  to  be,  to  give  an  end  and  an  aim 
to  mankind,  to  turn  what  is  and  was  into  means,  instruments, 
hammer  for  forging  the  future — his  knowing  is  creating,  his 
creating  law-giving,  his  will  to  truth  will  to  power^^  Beyond 
the  actual  rulers  concerned  with  the  administration  of  govern- 
ment and  in  a state  apart,  is  this  highest  man — a power  above 
powers,  determining  the  values  and  guiding  the  will  of  cen- 
turies.” 

Nietzsche  also  speaks  of  power  on  the  moral  level.  What  is 
the  difference  between  vulgar  selfishness  (which  Nietzsche  looks 
down  upon  as  much  as  any  one),  and  the  love  that  looks  beyond 
oneself  and  gives  and  bestows?  It  is,  according  to  his  view, 
that  the  selfish  man  requires  all  his  en.ergy  for  his  own  ends 
and  has  no  surplus — he  is  really  a needy  kind  of  man  who  must 

” Cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 210;  Will  to  Power,  § 972. 

” Will  to  Power,  § 779. 

Ibid.,  § 977. 

Ibid.,  § 978;  cf.  § 960,  and  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 213. 

Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 422,  as  to  the  contrast  witli  the  purely  scientific 
man  who  now  is  supreme;  even  Hegel  made  the  philosopher  subject  to 
reality — he  prepares  for  it,  nothing  more. 

Will  to  Power,  § 972;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 211. 

” Will  to  Power,  §§  998-9.  Somewhat  in  the  same  spirit  Nietzsche 
ranks  the  church  as  an  institution  higher  than  the  state,  i.e.,  because  it 
gives  to  the  spiritual  type  of  men  the  supreme  place  and  has  such  con- 
fidence in  the  power  of  spirituality  (Geistigkeit)  that  it  renounces  the 
use  of  rude  force  (Joyful  Science,  § 358).  So  the  rule  exercised  by  heads 
of  religious  orders  is  spoken  of  as  “the  highest  kind  of  ruling”  (Beyond 
Good  and  Evil,  § 61 ) . Cf.  the  striking  picture  of  the  V ornehmheit  of  the 
higher  Catholic  clergy.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 60. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  AND  WILL  TO  POWER 


373 


take  in  all  that  he  can  and  cannot  afford  to  give  out;  while 
the  other  type  overflows.  Wherever  there  is  power  and  to 
spare,  it  must  have  an  object  on  which  to  expend  itself,  either 
harming  or  blessing,  and  “love  gives  the  highest  feeling  of 
power.  ’ ’ Sometimes  this  type  of  goodness  is  combined  with 
greatness  and  then  arises  “angelic  majesty.”  It  is  something 
in  which  the  highest  pride  bends  fatherly  and  benignly  to 
others  and  has  no  other  idea  than  to  rule  and  to  guard  at  once — 
something  lacking,  Nietzsche  remarks,  “in  our  political  par- 
venus.”''^  There  is  even  a kind  of  prodigality  resulting  from 
inner  opulence.  In  this  way  aristocrats  sometimes  throw  away 
their  privileges  and  interest  themselves  for  the  people,  the 
weak,  the  poor.®“  Hence  too  a noble  hospitality.  “There  is  a 
superior  and  dangerous  kind  of  carelessness,  . . . that  of  the 
self-assured  and  over-rich  soul,  which  has  never  concerned 
itself  about  friends  and  only  knows  hospitality  and  how  to  prac- 
tise it — heart  and  house  open  for  every  one  who  will  come  in, 
whether  beggar  or  cripple  or  king.  It  is  the  genuine  courtesy 
(Leutseligkeit)  : one  who  has  it  possesses  a hundred  ‘friends,’ 
but  probably  no  friend.  ” In  a similar  way  grace,  or  merciful 
indulgence,  is  the  virtue,  the  privilege,  of  the  strong — and  can 
only  be  exercised  by  them.  As  we  have  already  seen,  Nietzsche 
can  even  imagine  a society  so  strong  and  so  self-assured  that 
it  could  let  wrongdoers  go  unpunished  — something,  I need  not 
say,  that  does  not  hold  for  the  societies  of  today. 

Nietzsche  sees  power  lying  back  of  self-control.  Why  is  it 
that  some  always  follow  immediate  impulses?  Because,  he  says 
in  effect,  they  lack  power  to  inhibit  them.®^  They  have  the 
power  of  their  impulses,  but  no  surplus,  nothing  transcending. 
It  is  only  the  strong  man  with  heaped-up  force,  who  can  say 
“no”  to  this  and  that  wandering  desire — who  can  rule  them, 
give  them  their  proper  place  and  no  more,  and  thus  make  a 

Genealogtf  etc.,  Ill,  § 18;  Will  to  Power,  § 176. 

Werke,  XI,  367,  § 554. 

Will  to  Power,  §§  935,  938;  from  another  point  of  view  conduct  of 
this  sort  is  questionable  (Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 258). 

Will  to  Power,  § 939. 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 10;  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 34. 

’‘^Twilight  etc.,  viii,  §6;  Will  to  Power,  § 778;  Werke,  XII,  9,  §14; 
ef.  August  Dorner,  Pessimismus,  Nietzsche,  und  Naturalismus,  pp.  157, 
166. 


P74 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


harmony,  instead  of  a discord  and  contradiction,  of  his  inner 
life.  “Unfree  will”  is  defined  as  defect  in  inhibitory  power 
against  stimuli;®^  with  power  comes  free-will  (in. the  legitimate 
sense  of  that  phrase).  Libertinism,  laisser  alter,  is  not  power, 
but  the  antithesis  of  it:  whether  practised  by  an  individual  in 
relation  to  his  impulses,  or  by  society  in  relation  to  the  mass  of 
its  members,  it  is  symptomatic  of  weakness  and  degeneration — 
strength  is  ever  in  rule,  in  organization.*®  The  decadents  of  our 
or  any  time  find  their  definition  (in  part)  as  those  who  cannot 
control  themselves — this  is  the  meaning  of  their  irritability:  all 
predominantly  irritable  people  belong  to  the  descending  line  of 
life — they  are  impulse  merely,  have  no  surplus  strength.*®  This 
holds  of  the  sexual  as  of  other  instincts — one  who  does  not  have 
them  under  control  is  not  a strong  man ; the  artist,  Nietzsche 
holds,  is  a temperate,  often  a chaste  man,  his  dominating 
instinct  making  him  so — one  of  the  regular  symptoms  of  ex- 
hausted stock  is  inability  not  to  respond  to  the  slightest  sexual 
stimulus.*^  Once  he  speaks  of  the  necessity  on  occasion  of  fight- 
ing, even  knocking  out  of  their  senses,  impulses,  though  they 
are  not  on  that  account  to  be  called  evil,  but  only  to  be 
downed,  made  subservient — for  power  over,,  not  destruction  of, 
the  passions  is  the  true  aim.**  The  body  does  best  itself  when  it 
is  best  ruled  ** — and  the  underlying  truth  is  a general  one ; 
power  is  organized  and  attains  its  maximum  of  efficiency  and 
happiness,  when  higher,  stronger  power  directs  it.  For  culture 
as  for  war  we  need  “great  leaders,  and  all  education  begins 


Will  to  Power,  § 1020. 

Ihid.,  § 122.  Cf.  the  reflection  on  those  whose  bad  impulses  thirst 
for  freedom,  whose  wild  dogs  want  liberty,  Zarathustra,  I,  viii.  Contrary 
to  his  usual  custom,  libertinism  of  the  intellect  is  once  spoken  of  without 
disparagement  {ibid.,  § 120),  but  the  thought  is  much  the  same  as  that 
underlying  his  use  of  the  assassin-motto,  “ Nothing  is  true,  everything 
is  permitted”  (see  supra,  pp.  320,  336). 

Will  to  Poioer,  § 737. 

Ibid.,  §§  815,  934;  cf.  Werke,  XIV,  273,  §58,  and  views  of  his 
earlier  period  as  cited,  supra,  p.  125.  Yet  Paul  Carus  can  say:  “ Nietzsche 
knows  nothing  of  self-control;”  he  “made  himself  the  advocate  of  vice 
and  gloried  in  it;  ” among  the  thoughts  of  George  Moore  which  he  might 
have  written  is,  “I  boasted  of  dissipation”  {op.  cit.,  pp.  34,  61,  104). 
Even  The  Nation  (New  York,  February  22,  1912)  speaks  of  his  denying 
“ the  validity  of  any  check  within  ourselves  contrary  to  the  primitive 
instincts  and  impulses  of  nature.”  It  is  the  general  ignorance. 

‘‘ Daivn  of  Day,  §76;  Will  to  Power,  § 933. 

Werke,  XIV,  81,  § 161. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  AND  WILL  TO  POWER 


375 


with  obedience.”  What  Nietzsche  calls  Ziichtung  (training, 
discipline)  he  ranks  high  for  this  reason:  it  increases  strength — 
untrained  men  being  weak,  wasteful,  inconstant.®®  He  even 
sees  the  higher  meaning  of  asceticism  from  this  point  of 
view,  however  hostile  he  is  to  it  in  other  ways.®^  Why  did  a 
medieval  baron  on  occasion  bow  before  a saint — not  merely  one 
of  the  Franciscan  type,  but  the  sterner  sort  as  well,  above  all 
one  of  the  sterner  sort?  Because,  Nietzsche  answers,  however 
strong  his  own  will  to  power,  he  recognized  in  the  saint  a 
kindred  will  to  power,  though  taking  a different  turn.®®  The 
baron  conquered  others,  the  saint  conquered  himself,  laid  a 
strong  hand  on  the  natural  impulses  welling  up  in  him — and 
the  baron  might  well  ask  from  his  own  experience,  which  was 
the  greater  victory  and  showed  the  greater  power?  Nietzsche 
says  that  the  feeling  of  power  has  hitherto  reached  its  highest 
point  in  continent  priests  and  hermits  (for  example,  among  the 
Brahmans) .®®  Further,  it  is  possible  not  only  to  control  “natural 
impulses”;  we  can  triumph  over  suffering  and  pain.  Nietzsche 
uses  the  word  “tyrannize”  on  one  occasion.  A measure  of  the 
power  of  the  will  is  how  much  opposition,  pain,  torture  it  can 
bear  and  turn  to  account.®^  It  is  one  of  the  characteristic 
marks  of  the  most  spiritual,  i.e.,  strongest,  men,  the  great  indi- 
viduals on  whom  Nietzsche  sets  his  heart,  that  they  practise 
hardness  against  themselves:  “it  is  their  pleasure  to  subdue 
themselves,  asceticism  becomes  nature,  need,  instinct  with 
them.”®® 

Indeed,  virtue  in  general  finds  its  definition  with  Nietzsche 
in  terms  of  strength — and  after  all  this  is  only  returning  to 
ancient  usage.  Virtue  for  him  is  literally  virtus,  Italian 

Renaissance  virtu,  i.e.,  strong  excellence  of  some  sort,  manly 

Will  to  Power,  § 398.  Yet  John  Dewey  speaks  of  Nietzsche  as  “a 
rebel  against  any  philosophy  of  regimentation  and  subordination”  (At- 
lantic Monthly,  February,  1916,  p.  254). 

He  devotes  one  of  the  Essays  of  Genealogy  of  Morals  to  the  ques- 
tion, “What  do  Ascetic  Ideals  signify?” 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 51. 

Werke,  XI,  253,  § 229  (he  remarks  here  that  the  reahsorption  of 
the  semen  into  the  blood  makes  the  strongest  nourishment,  and  stimulates 
to  an  extraordinary  degree  the  impulse  for  mastery,  as  also  the  craving 
for  something  contradictory  and  opposed  on  which  the  impulse  may 
expend  itself ) . 

Baton  of  Day,  § 113;  Will  to  Power,  § 382. 

The  Antichristian,  § 57. 


376 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


superiority.  Underlying  it  is  will,  courage — its  opposite  is  lazi- 
ness, weakness,  fear.  Many,  he  says,  do  not  put  through  their 
best  right,  because  a right  is  a sort  of  power  and  they  are  too 
lazy  or  too  afraid  to  exercise  power — decorating  then  their 
fault  perhaps  by  talking  of  forbearance  and  patience.®®  Power, 
as  Nietzsche  uses  the  term,  includes  will  to  power,  and  the 
trouble  with  many  is  that  they  don’t  will — they  long,  they 
desire,  they  are  ambitious,  hut  they  do  not  will.®^  Willing  is 
saying.  So  let  it  be : it  is  a kind  of  commanding.®*  Hence  Zara- 
thustra’s  warning,  “Do  what  you  will,  but  first  be  such  as  can 
It  is,  in  Nietzsche’s  eyes,  a trouble  with  the  Germans, 
that  they  know  how  to  obey,  but  not  to  command,  though  in 
exceptional  circumstances  they  may  do  it.^°®  In  general,  the 
greatest  danger  for  man  is  not  in  the  qualities  that  belong  to 
the  robber-animal,  but  in  sickliness,  weakness.^^  This  makes 
virtue  proper  impossible.  Vice,  on  the  other  hand,  is  the  self- 
indulgence  of  the  weak,  their  inability  to  inhibit  impulse.^®®  I do 
not  mean  that  Nietzsche  counts  as  virtue  everything  that  goes 
by  that  name — he  will  first  have  it  proved  that  “virtues’’  are 
virtue,  i.e.,  come  from  strength,’®®  and  in  effect  suggests  a re- 
estimation of  them,  according  to  the  nature  of  their  source.  So 
vices  are  regarded  as  manifestations  of  weakness.  It  is  even 
possible  that  what  is  vice  for  a weak  man  should  be  a permissible 
liberty  to  another. 

The  intimate  connection  of  virtue  with  power  Nietzsche  im- 
plies in  another  connection.  It  is,  he  says,  “in  order  that  the 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 251.  A virtue  is  properly  something  strong 
and  individual,  charaeterizing  above  all  the  exceptional  man,  Will  to 
Power,  § 317. 

Nietzsche  sharply  distinguishes  between  the  two  things,  Zara- 
thustra,  I,  xvii. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 19. 

Zarathustra,  III,  v,  § 3. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 207.  Cf.  the  contemptuous  references  to  the 
German  soul  with  its  involuntary  bowing  to  titles  of  honor,  orders,  gracious 
looks  from  above,  etc.,  WerJce,  XIII,  344,  § 855;  also,  Zarathustra,  III, 
vii.  Ralph  Barton  Perry’s  references  in  this  connection  to  Nietzsche  {The 
Moral  Economy)  show  little  acquaintance  with  him. 

Genealogy  etc.,  Ill,  § 14;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  §98. 

Cf.  Werke,  XIV,  119,  § 251  (vice,  along  with  sickliness,  mental 
derangement  and  hypernervosity,  a symptom  of  physiological  decadence)  ; 
Will  to  Power,  § 42  (crime,  celibacy,  alcoholism,  pessimism,  anarchism, 
libertinism,  social  and  intellectual,  classed  along  with  vice);  ibid.,  §871 
(men  of  power  and  will  the  antithesis  of  the  vicious  and  unbridled). 

CD  Werke,  XIII,  209,  § 481. 


THE  MORAL  AIM  AND  WILL  TO  POWER  377 


manliest  men  should  rule”;  indeed,  “there  is  no  sorer  misfor- 
tune in  all  human  destiny  than  when  the  mighty  of  the  earth  are 
not  also  the  first  men.^®^  And  yet,  he  adds  (and  this  is  the 
point  now),  when  the  highest  kind  of  men  are  not  in  power, 
there  is  something  lacking  in  the  higher  men  themselves.  Not 
only  should  the  best  rule,  but  the  best  will  rule,  and  where  there 
is  a different  idea,  the  best  are  wanting,^®®  i.e.,  it  enters  into  the 
idea  of  the  best  that  they  take  the  responsibility  their  nature 
entails ; if  they  do  not,  they  are  not  the  best.  At  this  point  we 
see  again  how  impossible  it  is  to  hold  that  in  Nietzsche’s  view 
any  kind  of  might  makes  right.  If  we  are  occasionally  tried 
by  passages  that  look  this  way  we  must  remember  that  to  him 
there  are  different  levels  of  power,^®®  that  one  level  may  be 
higher  than  another  and  yet  be  lower  than  one  higher  still,  and 
that  the  highest  kind  of  power  alone  had  his  unmixed  admira- 
tion. In  any  case,  the  fact  that  men  are  “the  mighty  of  the 
earth”  nowise  decides  the  question  of  their  worth.  Time  and 
again  he  speaks  of  the  degeneration  or  inadequacy  of  matter-of- 
fact  rulers  and  ruling  classes.^®^  I have  already  indicated  his 
view  of  the  German  Empire.  Even  in  Napoleon,  a far  greater 
man  in  his  estimation  than  any  German  of  the  political  order, 
he  saw  defects — Napoleon  was  compromised  by  the  means  he 
had  to  use.^®®  Of  certain  Roman  Emperors  he  says:  “without 
them  and  the' [degenerate]  Roman  society  [of  that  time],  Chris- 
tianity would  not  have  come  to  power.  . . . When  Nero  and 
Caracalla  sat  on  the  throne,  the  paradox  arose  that  the  lowest 
man  was  worth  more  than  the  man  on  top.”  '®®  And  something 
of  this  sort  may  always  happen.  Now  the  corrupt  ruling  classes 
are  spoiling  the  image  of  the  ruler  in  the  minds  of  men,  and 
many  want  no  ruler.^^®  “Often  slime  sits  on  the  throne,  and 
the  throne  on  slime.”  All  the  same,  the  failure  of  previous 

TFerfce,  XIII,  347,  § 859;  Zarathustra,  IV,  iii,  § 1. 

105  \YerJce,  XIV,  65,  § 128;  Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  § 21. 

Cf.  Werke,  XIV,  64,  § 125. 

Cf.,  for  example,  Werke,  XIV,  340,  § 191;  Will  to  Power,  § 874. 

Cf.  Werke,  XIV,  65,  § 129;  Will  to  Power,  § 1026. 

Will  to  Pouter,  § 874.  Chatterton-Hill  overlooks  this  passage  in 
reasoning  that  Nietzsche  “must  have  been  an  admirer  of  Nero”  (op.  cit., 
pp.  67-8). 

’“>/6fd.,  § 750. 

Zarathustra,  I,  xi.  At  best  princes  today  are  in  danger  of  becom- 
ing “solemn  nothings”  (Dawn  of  Day,  §5,26). 


378 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


aristocracies,  temporal  and  spiritual,  proves  nothing  against 
the  necessity  of  a new  aristocracy And  when  the  best  come 
once  more,  the  apiffroi,  best  in  body,  mind,  and  soul,  they  will 
rule  again.  And  that  Nietzsche  has  an  ideal  in  mind  and  does 
not  bow  down  before  brute  actuality  now  any  more  than  when 
he  wrote  “On  the  Use  and  Harm  of  History  for  Life”  in  1873,^^^ 
is  shown  in  no  way  more  clearly  than  by  the  fact  that  the 
supreme  specimens  of  power  to  which  his  faith  and  longing  went 
out,  do  not  exist  now  (though  power  of  some  description  rules 
the  world  now  as  truly  as  ever),  but  belong  to  the  future,  the 
function  of  present  humanity  being  above  all  to  make  their 
advent  possible. 

We  may  accept  Nietzsche’s  moral  aim  and  his  practical 
identification  of  it  with  will  to  power,  or  we  may  not:  it  is  a 
matter  for  our  own  critical  judgment  and  choice.  I have  only 
sought  to  make  his  views  as  clear  as  their  somewhat  uncertain 
nature  would  allow.  And  perhaps  I should  append  his  own 
remark  that  it  is  part  of  the  humanity  of  a teacher  to  warn  his 
pupils  against  him.’^^^ 

VI 

If  a name  is  desired  for  Nietzsche’s  general  ethical  view,  I 
know  of  none  better  than  one  used  occasionally  by  Professor 
Simmel : Personalism.^^®  Utilitarianism  on  a pleasure  and  pain 
basis,  no  matter  how  universalistieally  conceived,  Nietzsche  dis- 
tinctly rejects.  “Egoism”  is  misleading;  the  egoism  of  the  mass 
of  men  is  no  ideal  to  him,  and  that  of  the  degenerate  sickens, 
“ stinM.”  “Individualism”  is  equally  objectionable.  Nietz- 

sche conducts  a polemic  against  individualism:  he  does  not 
think  that  each  and  every  man  is  important  on  his  own  account, 
that  all  have  equal  rights,  that  progress  consists  in  making  indi- 
viduals as  free  as  possible  from  social  control,  that  each  should 
live  out  his  own  life  and  pursue  happiness  in  his  own  way.“^ 

Will  to  Power,  § 953. 

See  particularly  sects.  8 and  9 of  that  noteworthy  essay. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 447. 

Cf.  op.  cit.,  p.  242.  The  title  which  Simmel  specially  chooses  is, 
however,  “Die  Moral  der  V ornehmheit  ” {“  V ornehmheit  ” covering  the 
distinctive  characteristics  of  the  “Yornehmen”  or  superior  class). 

”°Cf.  supra,  p.  347. 

Cf.  Zarathustra’s  language:  “ Callest  thou  thyself  free?  Thy 


THE  MORAL  AIM  AND  WILL  TO  POWER  379 


An  ideal  like  this  verges  on  anarchy,  and  Nietzsche  is  not  a 
friend  of  anarchy.  He  thinks  that  some  people  are  more  im- 
portant than  others,  that,  as  Professor  Karl  Pearson  has  re- 
cently put  it,  “one  able  leader,  one  inspirer  or  controller  of 
men  is  worth  to  the  race  thousands  of  every-day  workers,  ’ ’ 
or,  in  Heraclitus’s  language,  that,  “one  man  is  equal  to  ten 
thousand,  if  he  be  the  best.”  In  other  words,  there  are  grada- 
tions of  rank  among  men,  and  it  is  a caste  society  that  makes 
his  idea — “my  philosophy  is  directed  to  an  order  of  rank 
{Rangordnung) , not  to  an  individualistic  morality.  ” But 
“Personalism,”  though  like  any  general  term  it  lacks  complete 
definiteness,  comes  nearer  to  describing  his  thought  than  any 
other  single  word  I know  of.  For  to  Nietzsche  persons  are  the 
summit  of  human  evolution,  and  the  creation  or  furthering  of 
them  is  the  highest  end  which  men  can  now  propose  to  them- 
selves— persons  being  those  who  direct  themselves  and  make 
their  own  law,  the  strong,  complete,  final  specimens  of  our  kind 
who  naturally  rule  the  rest  of  us,  or,  if  they  do  not  rule,  make 
a semi-divine  race  above  us.  I shall  try  to  show  in  some  detail 
what  Nietzsche  means  by  persons  in  the  following  chapter. 

ruling  thought  would  I hear  and  not  that  thou  hast  escaped  a yoke.  Art 
thou  one  who  dare  escape  a yoke?  Many  a man  has  cast  aside  his  last 
worth,  when  he  cast  aside  his  servitude”  (Zarathustra,  I,  xvii). 

In  an  address  on  Sir  Francis  Galton. 

Will  to  Power,  §§  854,  287.  Cf.  the  general  attack  on  individualism, 
ibid.,  §§  782-4,  859,  and  Simmel’s  thoroughgoing  treatment  of  the  subject. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 


MORAL  CONSTRUCTION  (Cont.).  “PERSONS,”  OR  GREAT 

MEN 

I 

“Persons,”  in  the  distinctive  sense  in  which  Nietzsche  uses  the 
term,  are  a development  in  human  society  and  do  not  belong  to 
its  beginnings — save  in  rudimentary  form  as  rulers  or  leaders 
of  the  flock.  Most  men  are  not  persons  now.  The  fundamental 
thing  in  human  nature  is  sociality  and  social  functioning — at 
least  since  man  ceased  to  be  a roving  lawless  animal.  Indi- 
viduals are  first  parts  of  a whole — they  come  to  exist  for  them- 
selves late  and  rarely.  They  even  tend  to  be  like  one  another, 
as  sheep  in  a flock  do — some  sociologists  put  imitation  at  the 
basis  of  the  social  process.  Indeed,  the  wonder  is,  considering 
the  circumstances  of  men’s  origin,  that  persons  ever  arise. 
Morality  itself  (the  mores  of  a group)  operates  to  make  men 
alike — this  is  perhaps  its  unconscious  purpose,  to  the  end  that 
surprises  may  be  minimized  and  all  feel  as  secure  as  possible. 
Now,  as  in  the  past,  the  more  the  feeling  of  unity  predominates, 
the  more  individuals  become  uniform — and  differences  are  felt 
as  immoral.^  Zarathustra  says,  “You  were  once  apes,  and  even 
yet  man  is  more  of  an  ape  than  any  of  the  apes.”^  Language, 
a supposed  distinguishing  mark  of  man,  after  all  covers  only 
what  is  communicable,  common — words  fail  for  our  strictly  par- 
ticular, individual  experiences.^  The  world  about  us — that 
which  we  so  call — is  what  we  all  see  alike:  the  rarer,  personal, 
perceptions  scarcely  belong  to  it.  Even  “truth”  is  a matter 
of  agreement : what  one  thinks  is  set  down  as  individual  simply, 
what  two  or  more  agree  in  thinking — that  is  “true.”^  Our 
very  mind  is  largely  a social  product ; what  others  teach  us, 
wish  of  us,  tell  us  to  fear  or  to  follow,  makes  up  the  original 

’ Werke,  XI,  237,  § 193.  " Twilight  etc.,  ix,  § 26. 

^Zarathustra,  prologue,  §3.  'Joyful  Science,  § 260;  cf.  § 228. 

380 


“ PERSONS/’  OR  GREAT  MEN  381 

content  of  it;  we  get  even  our  idea  of  ourselves  from  others, 
and  the  way  we  judge  ourselves  only  continues  the  combined 
judgment  of  others/  In  other  words,  human  beings  in  society 
tend  to  be  standardized,  averaged;  “so  arises  necessarily  the 
sand  of  humanity,  all  very  like  one  another,  very  small,  very 
round,  very  peaceable,  very  tiresome.”®  Indeed,  since  society 
is  a prime  condition  of  existence  for  the  human  animal,  it  must 
be  admitted  that  when  survival  for  a given  society  depends  on 
the  preponderance  of  certain  average  characteristics  in  it,  per- 
sons are  a kind  of  waste,  a luxury,  and  wishing  for  them  has 
no  sense.'^  What  would  be  the  use  of  a sheep’s  becoming  a 
person,  or  an  ant’s?  Its  whole  function  (unless  it  is  a leader 
of  the  flock  or  community)  is  to  be  the  scarcely  distinguishable 
unit  of  the  mass  that  it  is  and  to  continue  the  type. 

II 

And  yet  persons  do  occasionally  arise  in  human  society — at 
least  there  are  attempts  in  that  direction.  How  does  it  happen  ? 
Nietzsche  thinks  in  the  first  place  that  for  all  that  may  be  said 
of  the  socializing,  standardizing  process,  each  human  being  is 
at  bottom  in  some  way  peculiar.  Schopenhauer  had  held  that, 
while  among  the  lower  orders  of  being  there  was  no  essential 
difference  between  individuals,  the  species  alone  being  particular 
and  peculiar,  each  man  is  himself  a “particular  idea,”  “an 
altogether  peculiar  idea”;  and  Nietzsche,  at  least  for  a time, 
followed  him.®  Never  did  he  believe  that  men  were  born  free 
and  equal,  but  he  recognized  that  they  were  born  different. 
“The  habit  of  seeing  resemblances,  of  finding  things  the  same 
is  a mark  of  weak  eyes.”  This  is  said  in  commenting  on  the 
effort  often  made  to  harmonize  contrasted  thinkers — which  only 
shows,  he  adds,  that  one  has  not  the  eye  for  what  happens  but 
once,  and  stamps  one  as  mediocre.®  But  it  holds,  in  his  view,  of 

= Werlce,  XI,  236,  § 191 ; cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 105. 

« Werke,  XI,  237,  § 193. 

’ Will  to  Power,  § 886. 

® Cf.  Human,  etc.,  § 286.  Perhaps  I should  say  “ always.”  In  Joyful 
Science  he  still  calls  it  the  goal  that  “ every  one  should  draw  his  pattern 
of  life  and  realize  it — his  individual  pattern,”  and  says  that  his  kind  of 
ethics  would  ever  more  and  more  take  from  man  his  general  character 
and  specialize  him. 

^Joyful  Science,  § 228. 


382 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


oui’  dealing  with  men  in  general.  We  put  them  all  together, 
leave  out  of  account  their  differences,  and  then  we  call  them  a 
species ! The  individuals,  however,  are  more  real  than  the 
species — the  latter  is  an  abstraction,  a more  or  less  artificial 
thing.  But  if  individuals  do  really  differ,  why  is  it  that  they 
do  not  act  accordingly,  and  instead  fall  to  imitating  one  an- 
other? The  reason  is  partly,  as  already  explained,  the  social 
strait- jacket,  the  pressure  of  social  necessity,  but  partly  also, 
as  Nietzsche  thinks,  lack  of  force  in  individuals  themselves. 
They  are  afraid,  lazy,  defieient  in  energy.  “When  the  great 
thinker  despises  men,”  he  says,  “he  despises  their  laziness 
{Faulheit),  on  which  account  they  have  the  look  of  factory 
products.  The  man  who  does  not  wish  to  be  merely  one  of  the 
mass,  only  needs  to  cease  to  be  easy  with  himself.”^”  It  is  the 
few  possessing  the  surplus  vitality  and  courage  that  makes  them 
leaders  and  rulers,  who  become  anywise  persons  in  primitive 
times.  How  it  happens  that  while  “many  are  called,  few  are 
chosen,”  I need  not  now  seek  to  explain — it  is  a wide  and  general 
problem,  and  nowise  peculiar  to  Nietzsche’s  set  of  ideas.'*  The 
many,  however,  are  not  for  nought,  since  even  if  not  persons, 
they  carry  on  the  stream  of  life  from  which  now  and  then 
persons  emerge. 

Further,  societies  may  be  likened  to  storehouses  of  energy 
in  which  power  is  gathered  and  heaped  up  to  a degree  that 
would  not  be  possible  if  men  lived  singly — this  is  the  ultimate 
justification  for  the  restraints  put  on  individuals  in  them,  for 
rigidly  subjecting  them  to  custom  and  law.  But  there  comes 
a time  in  a given  society  when  this  accumulation,  long  quietly 
going  on,  reaches  its  maximum,  and  the  society  acquires  at  last 
a certain  maturity  and  ripeness.  The  necessities  under  which 
it  lived  in  precarious  earlier  epochs  hold  now  in  less  degree. 
Individuals  who,  even  if  they  had  willed  to  be  self-acting  per- 
sons, could  not  have  been  allowed  to  be,  may  now  be  given 
liberty  with  less  danger;  indeed,  the  power  that  has  been  ac- 
cumulating in  the  social  storehouse  presses  for  a vent  and  almost 
of  necessity  pours  out  through  special  channels  of  this  descrip- 

“ Schopenhauer  as  Educator,”  sect.  1.  During  his  middle  period, 
marked  by  a reaction  against  the  cult  of  “ genius,”  Nietzsche  even 
inclined  to  the  view  that  great  men  became  so  by  their  own  efforts  (see 
Human,  etc.,  § 163). 


383 


“ PERSONS/’  OR  GREAT  MEN 

tion.  All  of  which  is  equivalent  to  saying  that  men  of  inde- 
pendent force  and  character,  individuals  capable  of  self- 
direction,  tend  to  appear.  This  is  Nietzsche’s  second  point  of 
view.  The  material  for  persons  might  be  said  to  exist  always, 
but  actually  they  only  arise  under  such  favorable  historical 
conditions  as  these.'^  First,  social  stability;  then  an  aim  is  pos- 
sible in  new  and  higher  directions.^^  When  the  greatest  danger 
for  all  is  over,  individual  trees  can  grow  with  their  own  special 
conditions  of  existence.^  Horticulturists  and  breeders  of  ani- 
mals know  that  with  superabundance  of  nourishment  and  a 
surplus  of  care  and  protection,  there  is  an  increased  tendency 
to  variations  and  Nietzsche  thinks  that  it  is  the  same  with  man. 
When  there  are  no  longer  enemies  to  guard  against,  when  the 
means  of  life  and  enjoyment  abound,  the  old  strict  discipline 
relaxes,  the  mores  that  helped  to  store  surplus  power  become 
more  or  less  “out  of  date,”  and  deviations  from  the  average 
type  appear  such  as  had  not  been  known  before — deviations  in 
two  directions,  indeed,  towards  what  is  higher,  finer,  rarer, 
and  also  towards  what  is  lower,  or  even  monstrous.  If  we  ob- 
serve Venice  after  it  had  attained  assured  supremacy,  or  an 
ancient  Greek  polls  like  Athens  in  the  fifth  century  b.c.,  or  the 
end  of  the  Republican  period  in  Rome,^^  we  find  an  essentially 
similar  outcome,  namely,  an  astonishing  array  of  marked  indi- 
vidualities, some  holding  themselves  together  well,  others  going 
to  pieces.^^  It  is  the  harvest  time  of  a people,  the  raison  d’etre 
(in  Nietzsche’s  eyes)  of  the  ages  of  strict  discipline  that  have 
gone  before.  Relatively  to  the  old  iron-bound  order,  it  is  a time 
of  anarchy,  and,  many  would  say,  of  corruption  (ripeness  and 
corruption,  we  must  remember,  are  not  remote  from  one  an- 
other in  the  temporal  order  of  things)  ; but  it  is  also  a time 
when  the  great  moral  natures  appear,  not  men  of  the  old  type 
who  simply  obey,  but  men  of  power — those  who  in  the  old  order 
would  have  ruled,  but  now  turn  their  force  inward  and  rule 
themselves  (men  like  Heraclitus,  Plato).^® 

” Werke,  XIV,  261,-2,  § 4. 

XII,  no,  § 223;  cf.  XIII,  187. 

“ Cf.,  as  to  Rome,  W.  Warde  Fowler,  Social  Life  in  Rome,  p.  101. 

'‘See  the  remarkable  description.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 262;  cf. 
Joyful  Science,  § 23;  Werke,  XIV,  76-8. 

Werke,  XI,  242,  §201;  251,  §221. 


38i 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


Paradoxically  enough  (and  here  is  a third  point  of  view, 
one  already  anticipated),^®  the  very  restraints  of  the  old  regime 
have  prepared  for  the  liberty  of  the  new.  The  unremitting 
discipline  of  the  ancient  mores  has  turned  men — some  men — into 
beings  who  can  be  reckoned  on  and  can  reckon  on  themselves, 
i.e.,  are  responsible.  With  this  they  gain  respect  for  themselves, 
confidence  in  themselves.  Especially  is  this  the  ease  with  those 
who  act  as  representatives  of  the  group,  or  who  guide  it  in  war 
or  in  peace.  Yet  this  respect  for  themselves  and  confidence  in 
themselves  lead  them  sooner  or  later  to  think  that  they  need 
not  take  the  law  of  their  conduct  from  without  them,  but  may 
give  it  to  themselves.  They  have  learned  to  act  greatly  on 
others’  account,  they  conclude  that  they  might  also  do  so  on 
their  own.  In  short,  they  become  self-acting,  self-legislating — 
that  is,  persons.  The  collectivity  itself  has  unwittingly  educated 
them.  The  altruism  bound  up  with  social  organization  has 
made  this  extraordinary,  final  kind  of  egoism  possible.^^ 

m 

And  yet  the  new  developments,  though  less  dangerous  than 
they  would  have  been  at  an  earlier  time,  are  not  without  danger. 
The  individuals  strong  in  themselves  and  conscious  of  their 
strength,  may  contend  with  one  another  and  endanger  social 
stability.^®  They  may  also  intoxicate  others  who  are  not  as 
strong  as  they,  and  make  them  lose  their  heads.^®  But  gravest 
of  all,  they  may  themselves  go  to  pieces.  They  are  making  a 
new  venture,  and  with  all  their  antecedent  training  may  not 
succeed.  To  direct  oneself,  to  take  the  law  of  one’s  conduct 
into  one’s  own  hands,  is  a perilous  thing.  Thomas  Hill  Green 
said,  indeed,  “It  is  the  very  essence  of  moral  duty  to  be  imposed 
by  a man  on  himself,”^®  and  Kant  conceived  of  duty  in  similar 
fashion.  But  both  meant  little  more  than  that  one  takes  a com- 
monly recognized  moral  law  and  re-enacts  it  in  his  own  person. 
It  is  a naivete,  however,  to  imagine  that  when  a man  takes  law- 

’“See  pp.  221-2,  264. 

” Will  to  Power,  §§  771,  773;  cf.  Werhe,  XII,  110-1,  114-6;  Genealogy 
etc.,  II,  § 2. 

“ Werke,  XIV,  76. 

Joyful  Science,  § 28. 

Prolegomena  to  Ethics,  p.  354. 


“ PERSONS,”  OR  GREAT  MEN 


385 


giving  into  his  own  hands,  he  is  going  to  legislate  just  as  others 
do.  He  may  be  different  from  others,  have  a different  end  from 
others,  or,  with  the  same  end,  may  see  deeper  or  differently 
as  to  how  to  reach  it.*^  To  tell  a sovereign  what  law  he  shall 
give  himself  is  more  than  a naivete — it  is  a contradiction. 

“ Castilian  gentlemen 

Choose  not  their  task, — they  choose  to  do  it  well,” 

says  George  Eliot  in  The  Spanish  Gypsy.  But  a real  sovereign 
chooses  his  task,  as  well  as  the  doing  of  it.  He  sets  himself  his 
duty.  At  least  so  Nietzsche  conceived  the  matter.  The  very 
thing  that  urges  the  type  of  individual  in  question  to  be  a law 
unto  himself  is  the  more  or  less  dim  sense  that  he  is  different 
from  others,  and  needs,  in  order  to  serve  those  particulars  in 
which  he  is  different,  a different  regimen  and  method  of  pro- 
cedure. One  who  feels  that  he  is  one  of  many,  all  essentially 
alike,  can  neither  have  nor  desire  to  have  a peculiar  moral  law ; 
but  he  who  is  conscious  of  a quantum  of  being  that  is  unique, 
may  feel  that  he  is  even  lacking  in  respect  where  respect  is  due, 
if  he  owns  only  a common  law.  Eather  does  he  ask.  What  agrees 
with  my  conditions  of  existence  ? and  he  may  as  reverently  bend 
to  that  duty  as  any  average  individual  can  to  his.  And  yet 
really  to  find  out  oneself  and  the  law  that  will  serve  it — what 
a task ! Just  to  the  extent  that  the  individual  is  unique,  he 
can  get  no  help  from  others.  Society,  or  rather  societies,  know 
(or  think  they  know)  themselves,  and  the  kinds  of  conduct  that 
will  serve  them — hence  morality  or  moralities,  all  socially  im- 
posed laws  for  social  purposes ; but  societies  know  the  individual 
so  little,  that  they  either  fail  to  consider  him  (save  as  they  try 
to  restrain  him  or  to  make  him  useful),  or  else  they  touch 
merely  the  surface  of  him — we  have  already  found  Nietzsche 
remarking  on  the  unfineness  of  morality’s  prescriptions  for  indi- 
vidual well-being.^  Hence  when  men  take  themselves  in  hand 
and  attempt  to  mark  out  their  own  course,  they  may  go  astray. 
Nietzsche  says  that  the  first  tentative  individuals  generally  go 
to  pieces.^  They  are  great  enough  to  feel  the  inadequacy  of  the 
law  of  the  average,  but  not  great  enough,  or  lucky  enough  to 

Cf.  Werke,  XI,  243,  § 203.  “ See  ante,  p.  216. 

Werke,  XII,  113. 


386 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


find  the  law  that  suits  them.  There  is  a law  for  them  as  truly 
as  there  is  one  for  society,  but  they  do  not  hit  it — and  their 
impulses,  still  to  be  trained  and  unified  in  the  service  of  the 
new  aim,  conflict  with  one  another,  or,  if  one  gets  on  top,  it  sets 
up  a tyranny,  the  others  being  not  so  much  regulated  as 
crushed.^^  Even  so,  they  are  fuller,  richer,  greater  than  the 
ordinary  man ; but  regulation,  organization  are  lacking  and  so 
they  fail.  Nietzsche  once  drops  a despairing  remark  to  the 
effect  that  man  is  not  yet  good  enough  for  a flight  in  the  air, 
out  of  the  reach  and  criticism  of  others.  He  cites  as  examples 
of  higher  men  who  lacked  the  supreme  qualities — strong,  rich, 
but  without  self-control — Byron,  Alfred  de  Musset,  Poe,  Leo- 
pardi, Heinrich  von  Kleist,  Gogol;  he  says  he  could  mention 
greater  names.  He  calls  men  of  this  type  “rudimentary  men” 
— that  is,  they  are  anticipations,  beginnings,  in  the  higher 
direction,  but  no  more.® 

And  yet  there  are  those  who  do  not  go  to  pieces — at  least 
sooner  or  later  such  appear.  They  can  not  only  command,  they 
can  obey — a principle  of  order  and  subordination  is  established 
in  them.®  They  represent  the  opposite  of  the  demoralization 
sometimes  produced  by  freedom — for  Zarathustra  says,  “Alas, 
I have  known  noble  ones  who  lost  their  highest  hope,  and  then 
they  denied  all  high  hopes ; they  lived  shamelessly  in  momen- 
tary pleasures  and  scarcely  had  aims  beyond  the  day.  . . . 
Once  they  thought  to  become  heroes ; now  they  are  voluptu- 
aries!”® They  are  men  able  to  say  Yes,  not  only  in  word  but 
in  deed,  to  Zarathustra ’s  challenge,  “Canst  thou  give  thyself 
thy  evil  and  thy  good,  and  hang  up  thy  will  over  thee  as  a 
law?”®  They  not  merely  know  themselves,  but  they  follow  a 
still  greater  injunction,  “Will  [make]  a self’ —they  give  their, 
nature  a style,  mold  it,  bring  it  under  a law,  become  masters 
of  their  wildness,  unbridledness,  know  both  how  to  speak  and 
how  to  keep  silent,  are  capable  of  hardness  and  severity  against 

” Cf.  ibid.,  XII,  119,  § 233;  114,  § 226. 

^'‘Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 269;  Werke,  XII,  119,  § 233.  Nietzsche 
remarks  that  after  seeing  the  tragedy  of  these  “ higher  men,”  we  are 
impelled  to  seek  relief  and  healing  in  the  company  of  ordinary  well- 
conducted  people. 

Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  § 4. 

Hid.,  I,  viii. 

Ibid.,  I,  xvii. 


S87 


“PERSONS,”  OR  GREAT  MEN 

themselves.^  In  short,  they  are  whole  men,  lawgiver  and  sub- 
ject in  one;  they  need  no  laws  from  without — indeed,  “laws,” 
“rules”  are  crude,  unfine,  compared  with  the  intimate  char- 
acter of  their  self-control.^®  To  them  and  to  them  only  is  free- 
dom given  without  risk ; they  are  the  justification  of  the 
regime  of  liberty,  even  if  the  other  fruit  of  the  social  tree  spoils 
— better  that  much  should  spoil,  than  that  this  perfect  fruit 
should  not  appear.  Yes,  from  this  fruit  new  and  fairer  social 
groupings  may  in  time  arise. 

For  though  Nietzsche’s  thought  wavers  at  this  point,  and  he 
sometimes  speaks  as  if  great  men  were  an  end,  a consummation 
and  not  a way  to  something  beyond,  his  main  idea  is  (to  use 
now  another  metaphor)  that  they  are  eggs,  germinal  begin- 
nings of  new  societies  and  unities.®^  If  the  old  society  is  strong 
enough  and  plastic  enough  (a  rare  combination),  it  may  go  on 
itself,  simply  assuming  new  forms  or  allowing  new  varieties  of 
life  within  its  own  limits ; but  if  its  strength  is  of  the  rigid 
type,  then  its  fiowering  time  is  also  a beginning  of  decay,  and 
the  great  individuals  who  spring  from  it  can  only  perpetuate 
themselves  in  a new  society.  The  men  of  the  Periclean  epoch 
were  an  end,  the  sound  alas ! alike  with  the  unsound — even 
Plato  formed  no  new  society,  though  what  he  might  have  done,  if 
circumstances  had  been  more  favorable  in  Sicily,  “gives  us  to 
think.”  It  was  much  so  with  men  like  Caesar  and  Cicero  in 
Rome — though  a few  with  more  than  ordinary  proportions  suc- 
ceeded them  in  the  Empire.  In  fact,  with  developments  like 
these  in  mind,  Nietzsche  is  sometimes  tempted  to  the  melan- 
choly refiection  that  great  individuals  may  be  no  advantage  to 
a society,  but  rather  a detriment — that  its  growth  in  power  is 
best  guaranteed  by  a preponderance  of  the  average  or  lower 
type,  they  being  the  most  fertile  and  having  most  of  the  elements 
of  permanence  in  them.®*  He  only  resolves  his  difficulty  by 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 366;  Joyful  Science,  § 290;  Beyond  Good 
and  Evil,  § 260;  Will  to  Power,  § 704. 

Cf.,  as  to  the  possible  strictness  of  a sick  man  with  himself,  Dawn 
of  Day,  § 322. 

^‘“Only  to  the  ennobled  man  may  freedom  of  spirit  be  given”  (The 
Wanderer  etc.,  § 350;  cf.  Zarathustra,  I,  viii). 

Will  to  Power,  § 684;  Werke,  XIII,  114,  § 227. 

Cf.  the  point  of  view  of  Human,  etc.,  § 224. 

Will  to  Power,  § 685. 


388 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


raising  the  question  whether  a permanent  society  is  ipso  facto 
a supreme  good ; whether  shorter  life  and  decay,  with  a flower- 
ing time,  are  not  preferable  to  however  long  life  on  a 
monotonous  level.  Is  China,  he  asks  [of  course,  as  he  knew  it 
thirty  or  more  years  ago],  a desirable  form  of  human  existence 
upon  the  earth?  We  are  perhaps  here  in  presence  of  ultimate 
alternatives,  i.e.,  have  to  choose  between  two  ultimate  social 
ideals.  Along  with  the  desire  to  eternalize  a state,  there  is 
instinctively  bred,  he  thinks,  a fear  of  great  individuals,  and 
customs  and  institutions  naturally  arise  which  are  unpropitious 
to  them;  hence  the  Chinese  proverb,  before  quoted,  “The  great 
man  is  a public  misfortune.”®  But  for  himself  he  does  not 
hesitate : if  the  perpetuity  of  a state  must  be  purchased  at  such 
a price,  the  game  is  not  worth  the  candle — better  that  societies 
should  come  to  an  end  than  that  the  higher  types  should  not 
appear.®  And  yet  great  men,  though  worth  having  at  whatever 
cost  on  their  own  account,®  are  generally  viewed  by  Nietzsche, 
as  already  stated,  as  the  possible  beginnings  of  new  and  greater 
societies.  They  are  the  variations  on  which  the  hope  of  the 
future  hangs.  If  it  is  not  merely  man  as  we  see  him  that  we 
have  in  mind,  but  a higher  type  of  man  and  the  greatest  possible 
variety  of  such  types,  then  it  is  just  to  these  individuals  that 
we  must  give  particular  attention,  encouraging  them,  giving 
them  room,  not  measuring  them  by  ordinary  standards,  and 
willing  rather  to  be  hurt  by  them  than  to  prevent  their  arising, 
knowing  that,  whatever  immediate  harm  they  do,  humanity’s 
possibilities  of  further  development  are  bound  up  with  them.*^ 

iv 

The  ruling  tendency  of  our  time  is  against  Nietzsche.  The 
highest  thing  now  is  to  be  a servant  of  the  common  life;  the 
community  is  set  above  the  individual — even  the  greatest.®  This 
may  be  a wholesome  reaction  against  the  vulgar  egoism  of  our 
wealth-seekers  and  political  adventurers  who  want  to  make  the 

WerJce,  XII,  114,  § 227;  119,  § 232. 

Sometimes  there  are  compensations  of  this  character  for  political 
decline,  a people  in  such  circumstances  getting  again  its  mind,  which  had 
been  practically  lost  in  the  struggles  for  power,  and  culture  owing  its  best 
to  the  new  situation  (Human,  etc.,  § 465). 

” Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 996;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 276. 


“PERSONS,”  OR  GREAT  MEN 


389 


rest  of  the  community  serve  them — the  ideal  may  be  good  for 
them,  and  for  all  of  us  so  far  as  vulgar  egoism  lurks  in  us.  But 
in  any  other  sense,  it  rests  to  Nietzsche’s  mind  on  a deep  mis- 
understanding.^ The  community,  the  mass  or  collectivity,  is  not 
really  higher  than  the  individual.  It  is  higher  than  the  ordi- 
nary individual,  more  important  than  the  ordinary  individual 
(with  quantitative  standards,  many  are  more  important  than 
one)  ; but  the  great  individual  is  more  important  than  it — for 
with  him  mankind  attains  a new  level  of  being.  The  most  human 
aim  is  not  to  provide  for  the  comfort  and  happiness  of  the  mass, 
but  to  raise  the  type — to  welcome,  then,  exceptions  to  the 
average,  to  facilitate  their  existence  instead  of  putting  obstacles 
and  mistrust  in  their  way.  For  there  is  no  other  method  of 
progress  than  the  old  one  of  variation  and  selection;  only  (and 
here  Nietzsche  departs  from  the  Darwinian  school)  it  is  we 
who  must  do  the  selecting  henceforth — giving  to  the  rarer,  finer, 
higher,  stronger  specimens  the  advantage,  even  taking  them  as 
leaders,  instead  of  chilling  and  defeating  them  as  alas ! we  may, 
and  often  do  (there  is  always,  Nietzsche  thinks,  a half-conscious, 
underground  conspiracy  of  the  little  against  the  great,  of  the 
average  against  the  exception).^  The  proudest,  most  human 
act  of  the  mass  would  be  to  array  itself  in  loyalty  to  what  is 
above  it  (mere  mutual  helping  and  safeguarding  are  not  a 
peculiarly  human  thing — all  animal  societies  in  some  measure 
practice  it).  Robert  Browning’s  Paracelsus  says, 

“ Make  no  more  giants,  God, 

But  elevate  the  race  at  once!  We  ask 

To  put  forth  just  our  strength,  our  human  strength. 

All  starting  fairly,  all  equipped  alike. 

Gifted  alike,  all  eagle-eyed,  true-hearted.” 

But  what  a mixture  of  the  sublime  and  the  ridiculous ! What  a 
childlike  view  of  the  method  of  progress  in  the  world,  which  is 
always  by  some  starting  better  than  others,  by  unlike  gifts,  by 
giants  leading  the  way  where  smaller  men  dare  not  go,  by  slow, 
gradual,  painful  advance,  instead  of  “at  once”  or  by  an  Om- 
nipotent Hand.  The  hope  of  humanity,  the  reason  for  cherish- 
ing humanity,  the  ultimate  raison  d’etre  for  the  great  toiling 
Will  to  Power,  § 766. 

°°  Cf.,  as  to  the  straits  of  the  higher  type,  Will  to  Power,  §§  965,  987. 


S90 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


mass  of  humanity,  whose  struggles  and  mutual  helpfulness  are 
surely  not  their  own  end,  is,  to  those  who  think  with  Nietzsche, 
the  emergence  of  the  rarer,  higher  types  preferred  to — men 
who,  relatively  speaking,  will  he  like  Gods  on  the  earth,  and 
once  more  awaken  a sentiment  all  unfamiliar  to  our  democratic 
age — reverence. 

Nietzsche  remarks  that  the  philosopher,  in  the  deeper  sense 
of  that  word,  has  ever  found  himself,  and  has  had  to  find  him- 
self, in  opposition  to  the  day  in  which  he  lives — his  enemy  has 
been  the  ideal  of  that  day ; and  it  is  so  now.  Against  the  wild 
waters  of  selfishness  that  were  pouring  their  tumultuous  floods 
in  the  sixteenth  century  arose  the  ideal  of  a meek,  renouncing, 
selfless  humanity.  In  face  of  the  degenerate  aristocratic 
Athenian  society  of  the  fifth  century  b.c.,  and  against  the  old 
high-sounding  phrases  to  the  use  of  which  the  nobility  had  for- 
feited their  right  by  the  kind  of  life  they  were  leading,  Socrates 
stood  forth  and  practised  his  irony.  And  now  when  gregarious- 
ness is  supreme,  when  “equality  of  rights”  is  preached  and 
easily  passes  into  equality  of  wrongs,  now,  when  there  is  a gen- 
eral war  against  everything  exceptional  and  privileged,  a phi- 
losopher is  needed  with  a new  antithesis — ^one  who  will  say 
that  greatness  consists  in  standing  alone,  in  taking  duties  and 
responsibilities  that  cannot  be  common,  in  being  greatly  one’s 
very  particular  and  individual  self.® 

V 

Let  me  now  give  Nietzsche’s  conception  of  great  men  a 
little  more  in  detail.  Though,  as  persons  proper,  they  are  not 
easily  subsumable  under  a common  type,  certain  very  general 
common  characteristics  may  be  noted. 

First,  they  are  great,  not  by  carrying  ordinary  virtues  to  a 
high  state  of  perfection ; their  virtues  are  more  or  less  different 
from  the  ordinary,  for  they  are  different  men.  To  a certain 
extent  they  come  under  the  same  law  with  others ; but  the  char- 
acteristic thing  about  them  is  that  they  have  a law  of  their 
own,  one  suitable  to  their  peculiar  being.  Their  virtues  might 
not  be  virtues  for  the  common  man,  and  the  virtues  of  the 
common  man  might  conceivably  be  vices  (weaknesses)  in  them. 


Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 212. 


391 


“PERSONS,”  OR  GREAT  MEN 

Their  first  duty  is  to  respect  themselves.^^  ‘ ‘ Thou  shalt  become 
that  which  thou  art”  is  what  their  conscience  says  to  them.^^^ 
They  have  a morality,  but  it  is  that  paradoxical  thing,  an 
autonomous  morality  (“moral”  and  “autonomous”  being  ordi- 
narily opposites)  ; they  contradict  the  Hegelian  command  that 
no  man  shall  have  a private  conscience.  They  do  not  accept 
duties  from  without ; numbers,  authority  are  nothing  to  them. 
Their  duty  is  an  “I  will,”  the  “I  must”  of  overflowing  creative 
strength.  It  is  true  that  Zarathustra  sickens  at  his  “I  will” 
from  vulgar  mouths — for  the  mass  of  men,  obedience  is  safer, 
better  than  individual  choice;  but  for  great  men,  “I  will”  is 
the  sign  and  seal  of  their  superiority.  They  are  accordingly 
careless  of  popular  approval  or  sympathy proud  though  not 
vain ; they  have  a sense  of  singular  duties  and  responsibilities, 
which  they  do  not  think  of  lowering  by  converting  into  duties 
and  responsibilities  for  every  man.^^  However  dependent  on 
others  for  success,  their  rise  in  the  first  place  is  due  to  their 
self-assertion  — they  make  their  rights  rather  than  receive 
them.  They  have  an  unalterable  belief  that  to  beings  like  them- 
selves others  are  naturally  subject  and  may  sacrifice — this 
without  any  feeling  of  harshness,  force,  or  arbitrariness  on 
their  part,  rather  as  something  founded  in  the  original  law  of 
things,  as  just.^® 

As  is  natural,  men  of  this  type  have  a taste  for  rare  things 
such  as  ordinarily  leave  men  cold — for  art,  for  science,  for  high 
curiosity,  for  high  virtue.  While  willing  to  sacrifice  them- 
selves, if  need  be,  this  is  not  what  characterizes  them — a mad 
lover  of  pleasure  does  it  also;  nor  is  following  a passion — there 
are  despicable  passions ; nor  is  unselfishly  doing  for  others — the 
consistency  of  a certain  kind  of  selfishness  may  be  greatest  in 
the  highest.  What  singles  out  the  nobler  type  (perhaps  without 
their  being  aware  of  the  singularity)  is  their  rare  and  singular 
measure  of  values,  their  ardor  in  spheres  where  others  are  indif- 

“ Will  to  Power,  §§  919,  873,  962. 

Joyful  Science,  § 270;  cf.  §§  335,  336;  also,  Zarathustra,  IV,  i. 

Will  to  Power,  § 962. 

**  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §§  261,  272. 

Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 885  (if  the  rise  of  great  and  rare  natures  had 
depended  on  the  will  of  others,  there  would  never  have  been  a significant 
man ) . 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 265. 


392 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


ferent,  their  sacrifice  on  altars  to  Gods  commonly  unknown, 
their  bravery  with  unconcern  for  honor,  their  self-sufficiency 
which  flows  over  and  imparts  of  its  joy  to  men  and  things^ 

It  follows  that  they  are  more  or  less  solitary.  If  the  rest 
of  us  admire  them,  it  is  because  they  are  different  from  us,  not 
like  us — we  have  the  sort  of  joy  in  them  that  we  have  in  nature.*® 
To  a certain  extent  they  wish  to  be  by  themselves — instincts  of 
self-protection,  of  purity,  tending  that  way.  One  accommodates 
oneself  in  the  world,*® — as  Emerson  puts  it,  “we  descend  to 
meet”;  in  solitude,  the  soul  and  mind  are  easier  upright  and 
true.  Away  from  the  market  and  glory  happens  all  that  is 
great ; away  from  the  market-place  have  ever  dwelt  the  inventors 
of  new  values.®®  Nietzsche  quotes  a Hindu  saying:  “As  Brahma 
one  lives  alone ; as  a God  in  twos ; as  a villager  in  threes ; where 
there  are  more,  it  is  a noise  and  a tumult.”®*  He  speaks  of 
the  hundred  deep  solitudes  one  finds  in  a city  like  Venice — it 
was  a part  of  the  charm  of  that  city  for  him,  a “symbol  for 
men  of  the  future.  ’ ’ ®^  Solitude  has  practical  limits,  no  doubt ; 
if  it  is  too  great,  one  does  not  perpetuate  oneself — the  social 
many,  kindred  to  one  another,  perpetuate  themselves  best,  and 
that  is  why,  perhaps,  commonness  preponderates  in  the  world.®® 
The  great  and  singular  hardly  even  make  a class.  They  stand 
apart  from  one  another,  as  well  as  from  the  crowd.  They  may 
mask  themselves  so  well  that,  if  they  meet  on  the  way,  they 
scarcely  know  one  another.  They  do  not  necessarily  love  one 
another,  though  they  cannot  fail  in  mutual  respect.  Nietzsche 
quotes  a grim  remark  of  Abbe  Galiani,  “Philosophers  are 
not  made  for  loving  each  other.  Eagles  do  not  fly  in  company. 
That  has  to  be  left  to  partridges  and  common  birds.  ...  To 
soar  aloft  and  have  claws — that  is  the  lot  of  great  geniuses.”®* 
Nor  is  there  anything  undesirable  in  this  hostility — in  it  all 
their  strength  comes  out.®®  Tyranny  is  another  matter.  When 
“originality”  wishes  to  tyrannize,  it  lays  its  hand,  Nietzsche 
says,  on  its  own  life-principle  ®® — and  I imagine  he  would  have 
said  the  same  of  a “person.”  Even  when  the  great  agree,  they 


Joyful  Science,  § 55. 

“ Werke,  XII,  125,  § 244. 
*°  Zarathusira,  III,  ix. 
Ihid.,  I,  xiii. 

“ Werke,  XIV,  252,  § 536. 


lUd.,  XI,  377,  § 574. 

“ lUd.,  XI,  238-9,  § 195. 

Will  to  Power,  § 989. 
55  Werke,  XI,  240,  § 199. 
XI,  240,  § 199. 


393 


“PERSONS/’  OR  GREAT  MEN 

do  not  follow  one  another — do  not  press  to  or  long  after  one  an- 
other/^ Nietzsche  at  times  carries  the  thought  of  independence 
so  far  that  he  departs  from  his  usual  conception  of  the  great 
as  the  rulers  of  the  rest  of  mankind,  and  compares  them  to 
Epicurean  Gods  who  live  apart  from  the  world/®  He  really  has 
a twofold  classification  of  great  men,  the  highest,  rarest  type 
simply  giving  direction  to  mankind,  but  not  actually  ruling  it — 
ruling  being  a function  of  the  others/®  Aristotle  said  that  one 
who  was  not  a citizen  was  either  low  in  the  scale  of  humanity, 
or  else  a superhuman  being,  either  a brute  or  a God ; it  is 
evident  to  which  category  Nietzsche ’s  supreme  persons  belong. 

I have  already  referred  to  the  fear-inspiring  {hose)  aspect 
which  great  men  may  have.®^  Nietzsche  warns  against  a too 
soft  interpretation;  there  is  a certain  amount  of  the  brute  in 
them,  even  a nearness  to  crime.®®  They  will  be  independent, 
even  at  the  risk  of  subjecting  others  or  sacrificing  them — not 
because  they  are  inhuman,  but  because  independence  may  be 
impossible  of  attainment  in  any  other  way  and  they  can 
transcend  feelings  of  humanity  on  occasion,  as  Brutus  tran- 
scended pity  and  friendship  when  for  the  res  piihlica  he  mur- 
dered CEesar.®®*^ 

They  can,  however,  give  to  men  as  well  as  take  from  them, 
though  doing  so  in  their  own  way,  serving  “austerely.”  All 
but  the  very  highest  of  them  (who  live  apart)  function  in  ways 
that  are  appreciable,  are  helpers  of  their  kind  as  statesmen, 
commanders,  leaders  in  difficult  enterprises.  They  leave  aims 
of  personal  security,  comfort,  and  happiness  to  others.  They 
can  endure  poverty  and  want,  if  need  be — also  sickness.  They 
represent  a new  type  of  sainthood.®^  Their  instinctive  attitude 
to  the  weak  is  one  of  protection ; they  come  naturally  to  the 
defense  of  whatever  is  misused,  misunderstood,  or  calumniated 
(whether  God  or  Devil) . They  have  their  own  kind  of  goodness 

" Ibid.,  XIV,  418,  § 300. 

“ Ibid.,  XIV,  262,  § 4. 

'“See  The  Antichristian,  §57;  Will  to  Power,  §§  998-9,  and  later  in 
this  volume,  pp.  449-51.  In  Human,  etc.,  § 521,  greatness  is  treated  as 
equivalent  to  giving  direction. 

°°  Politics,  I,  ii. 

®‘Pp.  234-5. 

Will  to  Power,  § 951;  cf.  Eece  Homo,  IV,  § 5. 

Werhe,  XI,  239,  § 196;  Joyful  Science,  § 98;  cf.  § 382. 

^*‘Will  to  Power,  §§  943-4;  Werhe  (pocket  ed.),  VII,  486,  §36. 


394> 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


and  kindness ; they  take  pleasure  in  the  larger  justice  and  in 
the  practice  of  it.®^  They  are  counselors  for  troubled  minds 
and  consciences.®®  They  rise  to  higher  air,  not  occasionally  but 
they  live  there ; not  so  much  strength  as  permanence  of  high 
sentiment  marks  them.®'^ 

In  general  a high  self-control  characterizes  these  men.  They 
are  many-sided,  perhaps  have  the  most  varied  powers,  but  these 
are  harnessed  together  to  an  end.  They  are  not  impulsive 
beings,  but  collected,  cool,  reasonable;  they  do  even  heroic  acts 
in  this  spirit,  not  blindly  following  feeling.®®  They  like  naivete 
and  naive  people,  but  as  onlookers  and  higher  beings:  they  find 
Faust  as  naive  as  Gretchen.®®  Even  giving  one’s  life  for  some- 
thing is  not  necessarily  a mark  of  superiority — it  may  be  from 
pity  or  from  anger  or  from  revenge ; how  many  have  sacrificed 
their  life  for  pretty  women — and  even,  what  is  worse,  their 
health!™*  For  in  Nietzsche’s  eyes,  greatness  of  soul  is  not  to 
be  separated  from  intellectual  greatness.  The  really  great  look 
on  “heroes,  martyrs,  geniuses,  the  inspired”  as  not  “quiet, 
patient,  fine,  cold,  slow,  enough”  for  them.'^^^  Philosophers  are 
the  greatest  men.  They  are  ever  against  mere  impulse,  and 
first  and  surface  views — the  natural  antagonists  of  sensualism, 
whether  in  practice  or  as  a theory.™  Indeed,  Nietzsche  thinks 
that  individuals  generally  are  less  likely  to  lose  their  balance 
and  be  insane  than  groups,  parties,  peoples,  periods.™ 

Moreover,  the  great  are  happy  in  their  lot,  thankful  for 
existence.™  Though  they  may  suffer — and  capacity  for  suffer- 
ing is  a mark  of  greatness — they  can  also  play  and  laugh,  laugh 
at  themselves  and  their  failures,  make  jests  of  pathetic  situations 
in  which  they  find  themselves.  Indeed,  it  was  man,  the  most 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 213. 

66  >VerA:e,  XIV,  414,  § 298. 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 307 ; Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 72. 

Will  to  Power,  §§  883,  928;  cf.  Werke,  XIII,  144,  § 335;  Dawn  of 
Day,  § 215. 

Will  to  Power,  § 943;  cf.  the  references  to  Faust,  Werke,  XIII,  335, 

§ 830. 

Ibid.  § 929. 

” Will  to  Power,  §§  984,  993;  cf.  Werke,  XI,  379-89,  § 579. 

'‘^Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 14.  Cf.  two  striking  pictures  of  the  phi- 
losopher, his  experiences  and  manner  of  life,  ibid.,  §§  213,  292. 

” Ibid.,  § 156. 

A man  of  genius  is  unendurable,  unless  he  has  two  things  besides: 
thankfulness  and  purity  (ibid.,  §74). 


395 


“PERSONS/’  OR  GREAT  MEN 

suffering  animal,  who  invented  laughter/^  Philosophers  maj 
be  graded  according  for  their  capacity  for  it — the  greatest  being 
those  capable  of  golden  laughter;  Gods  themselves  laugh  in 
some  superhuman  way/®  The  greatest  sin  on  earth  was  the 
word  of  him  who  said,  “Woe  unto  you  that  laugh  now!”^ 
Zarathustra  knows  rather  how  to  sanctify  laughter ; he  puts  it 
as  a crown  upon  his  head/®  For  the  secret  of  laughter  is 
strength,  abounding  vitality.  From  this  source,  too,  flow  beauty 
and  grace.  “The  great  will  not  condescend  to  take  anything 
seriously,  ’ ’ said  Emerson ; and  above  the  hero  with  his  violent 
struggles  and  solemn  ways,  Nietzsche  puts  the  super-hero,  who 
stands  with  relaxed  muscles  and  unharnessed  will,  dowered  with 
beauty  and  grace — above  the  straining  neck  of  the  ox  is  the 
“angel’s  eye.” 

In  their  very  manners  the  great  betray  themselves,  as  a 
Greek  Goddess  did  in  her  walk.  The  labor  that  stoops  and  de- 
forms, affecting  even  the  gait,  is  foreign  to  them.  They  are 
capable  of  leisure  also,  this  being  understood  in  a nobler  sense 
than  that  of  mere  rest  from  toil.  They  may  even  have  an  air 
of  frivolity  on  occasion — in  word,  dress,  bearing.  They  have  a 
pleasure  in  forms,  are  convinced  that  politeness  is  one  of  the 
great  virtues,  mistrust  all  letting  oneself  go,  rank  ‘ ‘ good 
nature”  low,  are  disgusted  with  vulgar  familiarity.®®  In  short 
they  are  gentlemen,  but  in  an  intellectual  and  spiritual  sense. 
Nietzsche  ventures  to  call  his  Beyond  Good  and  Evil  a school 
for  the  gentleman,  the  conception  being  taken  “more  spiritually 
and  radically  than  ever  before.”*'  He  defines  it  as  one  of  the 
marks  of  the  gentleman  that  he  has  the  sentiment  of  distance,, 
knows  how  to  distinguish  and  recognize  rank,  gradation  between 
man  and  man  everywhere ; otherwise  one  comes  hopelessly  under 
the  category  of  the  canaille.  The  Germans,  he  says  in  a bitter 

’’‘Ibid.,  § 270;  Zarathustra,  IV,  xiii,  § 15;  Dawn  of  Day,  § 386;  Will 
to  Power,  § 990. 

’’’‘Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 294. 

’’’’  Zarathustra,  IV,  xiii,  § 16.  Nietzsche  is  hardly  happy  in  this  illus- 
tration; Jesus  has  nothing  against  laughter — he  had  said  just  before, 
“Blessed  are  you  that  weep  now,  for  you  shall  laugh”  (Luke  vi,  21). 
It  should  be  said  for  Nietzsche,  however,  that  he  reads  “ here  ” for  “ now,” 
and  regards  Jesus  as  pronouncing  woe  on  the  joys  of  earth  in  general. 

Ibid.,  IV,  xiii,  § 18. 

Ibid.,  II,  xiii. 

Will  to  Power,  § 493;  cf.  Human,  etc.,  § 479. 


'396 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


moment,  are,  with  a few  exceptions,  canaille;  they  are  so  com- 
placent {gutmiithig) , that  if  the  most  profound  spirit  of  all  the 
ages  should  appear  among  them,  some  savior  of  the  Capitol 
would  imagine  that  he  was  to  be  equally  taken  into  accounts 
The  modern  industrial  situation  has  its  troublous,  threatening 
side  in  his  eyes,  partly  because  our  new  magnates  are  not  gen- 
tlemen, but  show  by  their  vulgar  ways,  their  cunning  and  un- 
scrupulousness, their  “red,  fat  hands”  that  they  are  an  upstart 
elass.®^  As  a rule,  the  gentleman  is  born  and  bred,  the  result 
indeed  of  generations  of  training:  it  is  an  ideal  intimately  con- 
nected with  an  aristocracy and  manners  tend  to  deteriorate 
in  general,  when  the  influence  of  an  aristocracy  declines.®^ 

Such  is  an  incomplete  portraiture  of  great  men  or  “per- 
sons,” as  Nietzsche  conceives  them.  I may  add  an  interesting 
observation  which  he  makes  upon  polytheism.  This  ancient 
belief  rendered,  he  thinks,  a great  service  in  idealizing  different 
types  of  individuals,  and  allowing  them  their  rights  against  one 
another.  While  it  was  counted  an  aberration  for  a human  being 
to  assert  a particular  idea  of  his  own  and  derive  from  it  his 
law,  his  joy,  and  his  right,  those  doing  so  excusing  themselves 
and  saying,  “Not  I ! not  I ! but  a God  through  me,”  in  the  world 
of  higher  beings  it  was  admitted  to  be  different.  There  a number 
-of  norms  of  conduct  might  exist;  one  God  was  not  the  denial 
or  abuse  of  another;  there  for  the  flrst  time  individuals  were 
freely  allowed,  individual  rights  revered.  The  invention  of 
Gods,  heroes,  and  supermen  of  all  kinds,  as  of  dwarfs,  fairies, 
centaurs,  satyrs,  demons,  and  devils,  he  regards  as  an  inestima- 
ble preparation  for  the  justification  of  the  human  individual  in 
asserting  his  rights;  the  freedom  given  to  one  God  against 
others  became  at  last  the  individual’s  freedom  against  statutes, 
customs,  and  neighbors.  Monotheism,  on  the  other  hand — really 
a consequence  of  the  doctrine  of  a single  normal  type  of  man, 
an  assertion  of  a normal  God,  beside  whom  are  only  false  Gods — 
may  be  viewed  as  so  far  a danger  to  humanity;  it  involves  a 

Ecee  Homo,  III,  x,  § 4. 

’‘^Joyful  Science,  §40. 

Werfce,  XI,  367,  § 554;  cf.  the  fine  detailed  picture.  Dawn  of  Day, 
§ 201.  A true  aristocracy  is  not,  however,  a closed  caste,  but  takes  new 
elements  into  itself  continuously  (Werke,  XIV,  226,  § 457). 

Human,  etc.,  § 250. 


“PERSONS/’  OR  GREAT  MEN  397 

revival  of,  or  rather  reversion  to,  the  intellectual  atmosphere 
that  existed  before  the  age  of  varying  individuals ; it  flattens, 
levels  men — tends  to  give  them  but  one  set  of  eyes,  while  the 
glory  and  privilege  of  man  among  the  animals  has  been  that 
there  are  no  eternal,  i.e.,  unchanging,  horizons  and  perspectives 
for  him In  accordance  with  this  strong  feeling  Nietzsche 
expresses  the  hope  that  joy  in  foreign  originality,  without  desire 
to  ape  it,  will  some  day  be  the  mark  of  a new  culture/®  As  for 
himself,  he  wants  to  help  all  who  seek  an  ideal  pattern  for  their 
lives  simply  by  showing  how  to  do  it ; and  his  greatest  joy  is  in 
encountering  individual  patterns  that  are  not  like  his  own. 
“The  Devil  take  all  imitators  and  followers  and  eulogists  and 
wonderers  and  self-surrenderers ! ” 

Joyful  Science,  § 143;  cf.  Zarathustra,  III,  viii,  § 2. 

Werke,  XI,  240,  § 199. 

Ibid.,  XI,  242,  § 202. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 


MORAL  CONSTRUCTION  (Concluded).  THE  SUPERMAN* 

“Superman”  is  a strong,  picturesque  expression  such  as 
Nietzsche  delighted  on  occasion  to  use.  It  occurs  chiefly  in 
the  prose-poem,  Thus  spake  Zarathustra  (1883).  It  does  not 
appear  in  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  which  soon  followed  and  is 
a more  matter-of-fact  statement  of  essentially  the  same  thoughts 
as  those  contained  in  the  earlier  work,  and  only  once  in  The 
Genealogy  of  Morals,  which  succeeded  Beyond  Good  and  Evil 
and  is  a somewhat  connected  treatment  of  certain  controverted 
special  points  in  that  book. 


I 

Yet,  like  all  Nietzsche’s  extreme  phrases,  it  covers  a sub- 
stantial thought.  The  word,  oddly  as  it  sounds  (I  think  it  was 
Mr.  Bernard  Shaw  who  first  popularized  it  among  us),  is 
formed  most  naturally.  We  often  speak  of  “superhuman” 
excellencies  and  qualities,  though  usually  having  in  mind  some- 
thing bordering  on  the  Divine ; and  any  one  having  these  superi- 
orities is,  of  course,  literally  speaking,  a “superman” — the  only 
novelty  in  Nietzsche’s  view  being  that  the  superhuman  traits 
are  regarded  as  attainable  by  man.  The  substantive  itself  is 
not  absolutely  new.  Mommsen  spoke  of  the  ^sehylean  heroes 
as  “supermen.”  Homberger  (1882)  called  Bismarck  a “super- 
man.” Goethe  used  the  word  a couple  of  times:  ^ Herder  did 
once  in  an  unfavorable,  Jean  Paul  in  a favorable,  sense.^  The 
first  use  of  it  by  Nietzsche  (so  far  as  I remember)  is  in  Joy  fid 
Science  (1882),  where  “ Vhermenschen”  are  spoken  of  along 

‘ This  chapter  appeared  in  substance  in  The  Journal  of  Philosophy, 
Psychology,  and  Scientific  Methods,  August  5,  1015  (Vol.  XII,  No.  16). 

“ In  the  “ Zueignung  ” of  1784  and  the  “ Vrfaust,”  1775. 

^ For  a full  account  of  the  history  of  the  term,  see  K.  M.  Meyer’s 
article,  “ Der  jjhermensch.  Fine  vorgeschichtliche  Skizze,”  Zeitschrift  fiir 
deutsche  Wortforschung,  May,  1900. 

398 


THE  SUPERMAN 


with  Gods  and  heroes,  and  by  way  of  contrast  to  “Neu. 
menschen”  and  “Untermenschen”  (such  as  dwarfs,  fairies, 
satyrs).^  Before  this,  he  had  made  use  of  the  adjective  as  we 
all  do,  speaking,  for  instance,  of  “superhuman  goodness  and 
justice” — and,  indeed,  “super”  in  general  (or  its  equivalent) 
appears  rather  often,  as  in  “super-German”  (of  Wagner’s 
thoughts),  “super-national”  (of  universal  aims),  “super- 
hellenic, ” “super-historical”;  he  spoke  of  man  as  the  “super- 
animal” and  of  a “distant  super-world.” 

During  the  period  of  reaction  against  his  early  idealization 
of  Wagner,  Nietzsche  made  adverse  reflections  on  the  elevation 
of  individuals  into  superhuman  beings.  The  eultus  of  genius 
seemed  to  him  a continuation  of  the  old  worship  of  Gods  and 
princes ; when  one  raises  certain  men  to  a superhuman  level, 
one  is  apt  to  look  on  whole  classes  as  lower  than  they  really 
are.  He  felt  that  there  is  a danger  for  genius  itself  when  it 
begins  to  fancy  itself  superhuman.®  It  is  curious  that  Nietzsche 
always  had  a more  or  less  pronounced  aversion  to  Carlyle’s 
hero-worship.®  Even  as  late  as  Thus  spake  Zarathustra  there 
is  a slighting  reference  to  Gods  and  supermen  (taken  as  people 
up  in  the  clouds)  ; Zarathustra  is  tired  of  them  ^ — as  of  the 
poets  who  invent  them.  And  yet,  despite  such  chafiing,  Nietz- 
sche’s early  instinct  for  what  is  superior  and  great  is  by  the 
time  of  Thus  spake  Zarathustra  in  full  sway  again,  and  this 
book  itself  is  a product  of  it.  He  had  said  almost  at  the  outset 
of  his  career  (I  have  quoted  the  words  before,  but  they  will 
bear  repeating)  : “I  see  something  higher  and  more  human 
above  me  than  I myself  am ; help  me  all  to  attain  it,  as  I will 
help  every  one  who  feels  and  suffers  as  I do — in  order  that  at 
last  the  man  may  arise  who  is  full  and  measureless  in  knowl- 
edge and  love  and  vision  and  power,  and  with  his  whole  being 
cleaves  to  nature  and  takes  his  place  in  it  as  judge  and  valuer 
of  things.  ’ ’ ® And  now,  after  years  of  self-criticism  in  which 
everything  in  his  early  beliefs  that  could  be  shaken  was  shaken, 

* Joyful  Science,  § 143.  Cf.  the  description  of  the  way  in  which  he 
“ picked  up  ” the  word,  in  Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  § 3. 

^ Human,  etc.,  §§  461,  164;  cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 298. 

® The  references  to  Carlyle  are  in  Dawn  of  Day,  § 298;  Joyful  Science, 
§ 97;  Will  to  Power,  § 27;  Ecce  Homo,  III,  § 1. 

’ Zarathustra,  II,  xvii. 

® “ Schopenhauer  as  Educator,”  sect.  6. 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


jid  attitude  recurs — and  stands  out  clearer,  and  more  as- 
sured than  ever. 

“ When  half -gods  go, 

The  gods  arrive.” 

Wagner  had  gone,  the  early  illusions  about  him  had  vanished; 
but  the  transcendent  vision  of  superhuman  excellence  which 
Nietzsche  had  momentarily  identified  with  that  great  figure 
survived. 


II 

“Superman”  is  a poetic  designation  for  great  individuals 
carried  to  their  utmost  human  limit,  for  “persons”  in  the  full 
sense  of  that  term.^  Superman  is  man  as  he  might  be — not 
another  species,  but  our  very  human  fiesh  and  blood  trans- 
figured. As  Professor  Simmel,  one  of  the  critical  writers  on 
Nietzsche  who  has  penetrated  most  deeply  into  his  thought,  puts 
it,  “The  superman  is  nothing  but  the  crystallization  of  the 
thought  that  man  can  develop  beyond  the  present  stage  of  his 
existence — and  hence  should.  ’ ’ ® Zarathustra  has  scanned  the 
great  men  of  history,  and  the  greatest  of  them  are,  like  the 
smallest  men,  “all-too-human” ; “there  has  never  yet  been  a 
superman.”'®  Individuals  like  Alcibiades,  Cassar,  Frederick 
II,  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  Caesar  Borgia,  Napoleon,  Goethe,  Bis- 
marck are  approximations  to  the  type,  but  all  come  short 
somewhere — they  were  men  of  power,  took  great  and  fearful 
responsibilities,  but  were  spoiled  by  some  defect."  Zarathustra 
is  spoken  of  by  Nietzsche  as  an  incorporation  of  the  ideal,'^  but 
Zarathustra  is  an  imaginary  figure — and,  as  portrayed,  he  him- 
self looked  beyond. 

Nietzsche  once  puts  his  problem,  and  incidentally  reveals 
his  understanding  of  the  new  phrase,  thus:  Dismissing  the 
current  individualistic  morality  along  with  the  collectivistic, 
since  the  former,  like  the  latter,  fails  to  recognize  an  order  of 

® Op.  cit.,  p.  235;  cf.  pp.  5,  6. 

Zarathustra,  II,  iv. 

“Napoleon,  Goethe,  Stendhal,  Heine,  Schopenhauer,  Wagner,  Balzac 
are  once  spoken  of  as  “good  Europeans”  (i.e.,  super-national)  and  a kind 
of  “ higher  men,”  but  not  deep  and  original  enough  for  a philosophy  such 
as  Nietzsche  craves  (Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 256). 

Ecce  Ilomo,  III,  vi,  §6. 


THE  SUPERMAN 


401 


rank  among  men  and  wants  to  give  equal  freedom  to  all,  he 
says  that  his  thoughts  turn  rather  on  the  degree  of  power  that 
one  or  another  person  may  exercise  over  others  or  over  all, 
i.e.,  on  how  far  a sacrifice  of  freedom  and  virtual  enslavement 
may  be  the  basis  for  the  bringing  forth  of  a higher  type.  Put 
in  the  crudest  way,  to  what  extent  could  we  sacrifice  the  de- 
velopment of  humanity  to  the  end  of  bringing  a higher  type 
than  man  into  existence?  His  concept,  or  rather  image 
{Gleichniss) , for  such  a type  is  “superman.”  Another  state- 
ment of  the  problem,  put  in  the  form  of  a demand,  is;  “To 
bring  forth  beings  who  stand  elevated  above  the  whole  race 
of  man,  and  to  sacrifice  one’s  self  and  one’s  kind  to  this  end.” 
Taking  this  literally,  a new  species  is  suggested,  and  counte- 
nance is  lent  to  the  view  that  Nietzsche  conceived  of  an  evolu- 
tion in  the  future  like  that  which  Darwin  is  supposed  to  have 
proved  in  the  past,  namely,  of  a new  biological  type.  But  there 
is  reason  to  doubt  whether  Nietzsche  had  anything  so  definite 
as  this  in  mind.  The  whole  question  as  to  his  relation  to  Dar- 
winism is  a mooted  point.  He  may  himself  have  had  different 
attitudes  at  different  times — that  of  criticism  becomes  marked 
toward  the  end  of  his  life.  The  view  that  seems  to  me  most 
reasonable  is  that  he  finally  settled  down  to  thinking  of  super- 
men simply  as  extraordinary  specimens  of  men,  who,  however, 
if  favored,  instead  of  being  fought  as  they  commonly  are,  might 
lead  to  a considerable  modification  of  the  human  type — one  so 
great  that,  speaking  in  literary  and  fluid  rather  than  scientific 
fashion,  the  result  might  be  called  a new  species.  He  expressly 
says  in  one  of  his  later  books,  “Not  what  shall  take  the  place 
of  humanity  in  the  successive  order  of  beings  is  the  problem 
I propose — man  is  an  end;  but  what  type  of  man  we  shall 
train,  shall  wish  for  as  one  of  higher  value,  worthier  of  life, 
surer  of  the  future.  The  more  valuable  type  has  often  enough 
existed,  but  as  a happy  chance,  an  exception,  never  as  some- 
thing willed.  Instead  of  this  it  has  been  something  feared, 
almost  the  fearful  thing — and  from  motives  of  fear  the  con- 
trasted type  has  been  willed,  trained,  attained:  man  the  do- 
mestic animal,  the  social  animal,  the  sick  animal — the  Chris- 
tian.” In  the  following  paragraph,  he  speaks  of  the  higher 
Will  to  Power,  §§  859,  866.  **  Werke,  XIV,  261,  § 4. 


402 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


type  as  “relatively”  a “sort  of  superman.”'®  Once  he  makes 
a derisive  reference  to  “learned  cattle  who  had  suspected  him 
of  Darwinism.”'®  If  Nietzsche  finally  held  to  Darwinism  at 
all — and  it  is  not  certain  that  he  did  — it  was  only  in  the  sense 
of  a development-theory  in  general,  much  as  Emerson  spoke 
of  the  worm  mounting  “through  all  the  spires  of  form”  to 
man.  For  not  evolution,  not  even  selection,  is  a distinctive 
Darwinian  idea,  but  only  natural  selection,  along  with  the  theory 
of  surplus  numbers  and  the  consequent  struggle  for  existence — 
and  Nietzsche  distrusted  these  premises  of  Darwin’s  view,  and 
wanted  not  so  much  natural  selection  (which  he  thought  often 
favored  the  weak)  as  conscious,  human  selection  in  the  direc- 
tion of  individuals  of  maximum  power. 

Ill 

But  when  we  ask  how  the  superman  is  to  be  got,  we  are  left 
more  or  less  in  the  vague.  Nietzsche  thinks  that  we  have  not 
sufficient  data  for  a judgment  as  yet.  Physiology,  medicine, 
psychology,  sociology — sciences  that  must  give  us  the  data — are 
not  developed  enough.  Those  who  imagine  that  Nietzsche  has 
any  short  cut  to  Utopia  have  little  idea  of  the  manner  of  man 
he  was.  Brandes  called  his  view  “aristocratic  radicalism”  (in 
distinction  from  radicalism  of  the  democratic  or  socialistic 
type)  ; but  he  is  radical  in  thought,  not  in  proposing  a pro- 
gram. He  has  a profound  sense  of  the  slowness  of  all  real  social 
changes.  He  contrasts  the  French  Revolution  with  what  it 
might  have  been,  had  steadier  heads  kept  in  control.'®  Chronic 
ailings  (such  as  lung  troubles)  develop  from  slight  causes  re- 
peated constantly,  he  observes,  and  cures,  if  possible,  come  in 
much  the  same  way  (in  this  case  by  repeated  deep  breathing)  ; 
and  the  truth  holds  equally  of  spiritual  ills.'®  So  “no  impa- 
tience” now!  “The  superman  is  our  next  stage” — but  “mod- 
eration” along  with  courage  is  needed  in  aiming  thitherward. 

The  Antichristian,  §§  3,  4.  Cf.  the  language,  “a  relatively  super- 
human type,”  in  Ecce  Homo,  IV,  § 5. 

Ecce  Homo,  III,  § 1. 

” I have  already  alluded  to  Eichter’s  excellent  discussion  of  the  whole 
subject,  Richter,  op.  cit.,  pp.  219-38. 

’ ® Dawn  of  Day,  § 534. 

“/hid.,  § 462. 


THE  SUPERMAN 


403 


Zarathustra,  the  prophet  of  the  coming  order,  has  repose,  can 
wait.  Life  and  action  having  got  a purpose  and  meaning,  there 
is  no  need  of  leaping,  and  each  step  onward  may  be  perfect 
and  give  happy  feeling.  All  violent  longing  is  to  be  overcome — 
the  calm  of  the  great  stream  is  to  come  in  its  place.^“  Speaking 
more  prosaically,  we  are  to  guard  against  exchanging  the  cus- 
tomary morality  for  a new  valuation  suddenly  and  violently — 
we  must  continue  to  live  in  the  old  for  a long  time  and  take 
the  new  in  small  doses  repeatedly,  till  we  find,  very  late, 
probably,  that  the  new  valuation  has  got  predominant  force 
and  that  the  little  doses  have  made  a new  nature  in  us.^^  In- 
deed, in  order  to  be  taught,  the  new  morality  must  introduce 
itself  in  connection  with  the  existing  moral  law  and  under  its 
names  and  guises — that  is,  it  must  be  more  or  less  opportunist 
and  compromising.^  Nietzsche  does  not  think  much  of  “agi- 
tators,” all  too  apt  to  be  empty  heads,  who  fiatten  and  infiate 
any  good  idea  they  get  hold  of  and  give  it  out  with  a hollow 
sound.^  It  is  a change  in  the  depths  of  thought  that  is  needed, 
not  a noisy  enthusiasm.  And  this  is  why  he  might  have  had 
reserves  as  to  some  who  call  themselves  Nietzscheans  today — 
for,  he  observes,  with  a touch  of  humor,  the  first  disciples  of 
a doctrine  prove  nothing  against  it ! 

I have  said  that  his  thought  as  to  how  to  reach  the  superman 
is  vague.  It  may  be  something,  however,  to  turn  the  mind  in 
this  direction,  and  to  have  a clear  conviction  that  the  result  is 
more  or  less  in  our  hands.  If  mankind  were  really  persuaded 
that  its  chief  function  is  not  to  make  itself  happy  and  secure 
on  the  earth,  but  to  produce  godlike  individuals,  it  would  surely 
make  a difference.  At  present,  the  old  Christian  thought  of 
heaven  and  hell  being  no  longer  regnant,  there  is,  Nietzsche 
thinks,  no  common  aim,  and  things  are  going  by  luck,  hit  or 
miss.  If  there  is  any  faith,  it  is  a vague  and  more  or  less  lazy 
confidence  that  things  will  come  out  right  anyway,  “Providence” 
or  “evolution”  or  “progress”  or  “the  course  of  things”  being 
the  determining  matter — as  if,  says  Nietzsche,  it  did  not  depend 
on  us  how  things  come  out,  as  if  we  could  let  them  go  their 

Werke,  XIV,  263,  § 10;  265,  § 21;  286,  § 99. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 534. 

Will  to  Power,  § 957. 

Genealogy  of  Morals,  III,  § 8. 


404 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


way.^  Indeed,  what  does  “coming  out  right”  mean,  save  as 
we  have  some  notion  of  what  is  right?  Nietzsche  is  opposed  to 
leaving  things  to  chance — and  it  may  be  counted  one  of  his  dis- 
tinctions in  the  future  that  he  restored  rationality  (in  the  large 
sense)  to  its  proper  place  as  the  ruler  of  the  world — something 
to  he  quite  distinguished  from  the  faith  that  rationality,  with 
a big  R,  does  rule  the  world — and  that  he  helped  to  make  man 
the  sovereign  creator  of  his  own  destiny. 

A word  which  Nietzsche  often  uses  is  “ ZucMung” ; its  mean- 
ing is  training  or  breeding,  a practical  equivalent  being  pur- 
posive selection.  It  is  something  that  Burbank  is  doing  in  Cali- 
fornia in  the  realm  of  plant  life.  Nietzsche,  however,  uses  the 
term  in  a large  sense  and  comprehends  under  it  all  the  means, 
physical,  social,  spiritual,  that  may  be  used  for  producing  the 
great  result  at  which  he  aims.^  Sometimes  he  uses  “ Erziehung 
meaning  education,  not  in  our  conventional,  but  in  the  broadest 
sense.  “ Ziichtung,”  however,  brings  out  more  clearly  the  neces- 
sary factor  of  selection.^®  Let  us  observe,  he  urges,  nature  and 
history  and  see  in  what  way  notable  results  have  been  reached 
unconsciously  and  perhaps  clumsily  and  by  very  slow  methods 
in  the  past ; then,  taking  things  into  our  own  hands,  let  us 
see  if  the  results  we  aim  at  cannot  be  reached  in  a similar  way, 
but  more  surely  and  with  less  waste  of  time  and  force.  Let  an 
organized  mankind  test  Darwin’s  assertions  by  experiment — 
even  if  the  experimentation  covers  centuries  and  millenniums 
and  we  have  to  turn  the  whole  earth  into  experiment  stations. 
Let  it  be  proved  whether  apes  can  be  developed  into  men,  and 
lower  races  into  higher  races,  and  whether  from  the  best  man- 
kind has  at  present  to  show,  something  still  higher  can  be 
reared.^  The  Chinese  have  made  trees  that  bear  roses  on  one 
side  and  pears  on  the  other — and  where  are  the  limits  to  be  set 
to  the  possibilities  of  selective  human  breeding?  Historical 
processes  may  be  improved  upon : granting  that  races  and  racial 

Will  to  Power,  § 24.3. 

Cf.  the  excellent  remarks  of  Nietzsche’s  sister,  Werlce  (pocket  ed.), 
VII,  p.  xi. 

‘’“Ziichtung”  is  contradistinguished  from  “Erziehung”  by  F.  Rit- 
telmeyer,  one  of  the  most  discriminating  German  writers  on  Nietzsche 
(Friedrich  Nietzsche  und  die  Religion,  p.  59). 

” Werke,  XII,  191,  §§  408-9;  cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 551;  Werlce  (pocket 
ed.),  V,  396,  § 13. 


THE  SUPERMAN 


405 


struggles,  national  fevers  and  personal  rivalries,  have  done  their 
part,  why  could  not  the  long-drawn-out  and  painful  tale  be 
crowded  into  brief  space  and  the  net  results  be  got  without  the 
fearful  waste ! ^ It  is  evident  that  Nietzsche  has  in  mind  a 
control  of  humanity  such  as  has  not  been  heard  or  perhaps 
thought  of  before.  He  speaks  repeatedly  of  a world-economy, 
a rule  of  the  earth — and  it  might  be  said  in  reply  that  there 
would  be  need  of  a God  to  administer  it.  A sort  of  contra- 
diction might  be  charged  up  to  him  in  that  the  superman  who 
is  to  be  reached  as  the  outcome  of  a process  of  evolution  would 
be  required  to  start  and  guide  the  process — we  should  have  to 
be  Gods  to  know  how  to  create  them ! And  Nietzsche  could  only 
answer  that,  as  individuals  learn  by  doing  and  have  to  venture 
even  if  they  make  mistakes,  so  with  mankind — that  the  only 
practical  thing  in  the  present  case  is  to  start  with  as  strong, 
masterful  intelligence  as  we  can  get,  aiming  at  world-control, 
and  hope  to  win  sooner  or  later  a world-result. 

IV 

The  initiative  in  such  an  enterprise  can  evidently  only  be 
taken  by  those  who  have  the  thought  that  inspires  it — naturally 
they  will  be  few.  They  must  be  thinkers,  and  men  of  action 
at  the  same  time.^  They  will  choose  themselves,  and,  so  to 
speak,  put  the  crown  on  their  own  heads.  Evidently  physical 
force  is  not  sufficient  to  constitute  them — force  of  this  kind  can 
do  little  in  a connection  like  this.  Neither  is  it  a question  of 
wealth — our  rich  men  are  the  poorest,  says  Nietzsche,  the  aim 
of  all  wealth  being  forgotten.^”  Nor  is  it  any  longer  a question 
of  race,  though  a superior  race,  the  “blond  [Aryan]  beast,” 
did  once  lift  Europe  to  a higher  level — there  are  no  pure 
races  in  Europe  now.^^  Nor  is  it  a question  of  aristocratic 
descent — where  in  Germany  will  you  find,  Nietzsche  asks,  a 
great  family  in  whose  blood  there  is  not  venereal  infection  and 
corruption?  Peasant  blood,  he  thinks,  is  still  the  best.*^  Not 

Werke,  XII,  190,  § 408. 

Cf.  Shaw’s  description  of  the  superman  as  some  kind  of  “ phi- 
losopher-athlete ” (Man  and  Superman,  p.  182),  and  Montaigne’s  remark, 
“ The  true  philosophers,  if  they  were  great  in  science,  were  yet  much 
greater  in  action”  (Essays,  I,  xxiv). 

Will  to  Power,  § 61. 

“ Werke,  XIII,  356,  §§  877-9. 


406 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


whence  you  come,  but  whither  you  go,  is  the  critical  question 
for  the  nobility  to  be.^^  The  challenge  is.  How  strong  are  you, 
how  near  completeness  in  body,  mind,  and  soul,  how  far  can 
you  stand  alone,  assume  responsibility,  be  your  own  master,  and 
thereby  be  fit  to  master  others.^^  In  other  words,  it  is  a question 
of  character  (in  the  great  sense). ^ The  men  to  take  the  lead 
in  redeeming  the  world  from  folly  and  chance,  and  in  organ- 
izing collective  experiments  and  iiazardous  enterprises  to  that 
end,  will  be  “philosophers”  of  this  type.  Every  sound  quality 
that  belongs  to  the  ascending  line  of  life  will  be  theirs.  So- 
called  “aristocrats  of  intellect”  are  not  enough there  must  be 
blood  and  sound  physical  organization ; they  must  be  capable 
of  projecting  a new  physiological  line — all  aristocracies  start 
from  superior  whole  men.*^  Nor  will  they  despise  the  economic 
basis  of  life.  Though  wealth  will  be  nowise  a distinctive  mark 
of  them  (others  will  have  more  than  they)  they  will  have  wealth 
— enough  to  make  them  independent  and  able  to  do  what  they 
like,  instead  of  what  other  people  like,  enough  to  lift  them 
above  pitiful  economies,  enough  to  marry  well  on  and  pay  for 
the  best  instruction  to  their  children.  Nietzsche’s  ideas  will 
hardly  be  thought  extravagant  in  this  connection.  He  says 
that  300  Thaler  a year  may  have  almost  the  same  effect  as 
30,000 ; ^ and,  in  commenting  on  the  Greek  aristocracies  with 
their  hereditary  property  and  saying  that  they  “lived  better” 
than  we,  he  significantly  adds  that  he  means  “better  in  every 
sense,  above  all  much  more  simply  in  food  and  drink.  ” At  the 

same  time  the  aristocracy  to  be  will  control  wealth,  even  if  not 
possessing  it  in  any  high  degree — they  will  see  that  it  does  not 
hinder,  but  rather  serves  the  great  public  ends  they  have  at 
heart.  Nietzsche  even  throws  out  what  may  seem  a wild  sug- 
gestion, namely,  that  the  wise  must  secure  the  monopoly  of  the 
money-market : however  elevated  they  may  be  above  the  wealthy 

Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  § 12. 

WerJce,  XII,  363-4,  §§  397,  399. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 203. 

Will  to  Power,  § 942. 

Human,  etc.,  § 479. 

The  Wanderer  etc.,  §184;  cf.  Werke,  X,  388,  § 209.  As  to  tlie 
danger  of  wealth,  and  of  possessions  possessing  us,  see  Mixed  Opinions 
etc.,  §§  310,  317.  Burckhardt  remarks  that  social  rank  was  not  deter- 
mined by  wealth  among  the  Greeks  of  the  5th  century  B.  C.  (Griechische 
Kulturgeschichte,  Vol.  IV.,  pp.  208-10). 


THE  SUPERMAN 


407 


class  by  their  aims  and  manner  of  life,  they  must  give  direction 
to  wealth — it  is  absolutely  necessary,  he  declares,  that  the 
highest  intelligence  give  direction  to  it.  Money  will  be  safest 
under  their  control — otherwise  it  will  be  liable  to  go  (as  so 
often  happens  now)  for  extreme  one-sided  tendencies.^ 

These  men,  too,  will  know,  as  real  aristocracies  always  know, 
the  significance  of  marriage.^®  Love  will  be  looked  at  from  a 
new  angle  (new,  that  is,  to  the  modern  world) — it  will  be  con- 
trolled by  ideal  considerations.^®  Marriage  will  not  be  from 
passion  or  emotion  simply.  Nor  will  mere  considerations  of 
mutual  fitness  and  compatibility  be  the  controlling  thing.  The 
main  aim  of  marriage  for  men  like  these  will  be  the  continuation 
of  their  type,  and  propagation  will  be  a matter  of  the  utmost 
sacredness.^^  Zarathustra  speaks  in  this  spirit  in  a passage 
already  summarized.^  ® He  speaks  also  of  the  helpful 
influence  which  physicians  may  exert.^®  Women  may  help 
directly — the  deepest  instincts  of  motherhood  may  be  brought 
into  line  with  the  aim  of  producing  a higher  race.“ 
It  is,  of  course,  a different  aim  from  the  ordinary  one  of 
“founding  a family”  which  vulgar  and  self-centered  people 
may  wish  to  do — the  aristocracy  to  be  will  exist  for  universal 
ends,  and,  instead  of  being  a closed  line  or  set  of  lines,  it  will 
take  to  itself  new  elements  of  promise  wherever  they  appear, 
and  will  draw  on  all  the  varied  talents  that  are  needed  for 
the  administration  of  the  earth.^  As  little  is  it  a national 
aristocracy  which  Nietzsche  has  in  mind.  His  thought  is  Euro- 
pean^ (or  wider)  and  the  aristocracy  will  be  international — 
the  principle  of  the  possibility  of  a United  Europe;  he  speaks 
of  possible  “international  marital  unions”  as  fortresses  under 
whose  protection  the  training  of  a race  of  future  lords  of  the 

Werlce,  XII,  204,  §§  434-5. 

Cf.  Ihid.,  XI,  350,  § 505. 

Ibid.,  XIV,  261,  §3.  Cf.  XII,  196,  §418  (reflections  on  conditions 
that  were  favorable  to  the  many  free  individuals  among  the  Greeks,  among 
them,  “ marriage  not  on  accoimt  of  erotic  passion  ” ) . 

“ Ibid.,  XIV,  261,  § 3;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  732,  804. 

Zarathustra,  I,  xx;  see  p.  311  of  this  volume. 

Human,  etc.,  § 243;  cf.  Werlce,  XI,  145,  § 453. 

Zarathustra,  I,  xviii  (“Let  the  beam  of  a star  shine  in  your  love! 
Let  your  hope  say  ‘ May  I bear  the  superman ! ’ ” ) . 

Werke,  XIV,  226-7,  §§  457,  459. 

*^Ibid.,  XIII,  358,  §881;  cf.  XIV,  226,  § 456. 


408 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


earth  may  go  on5  He  is  aware  that  accident  more  or  less  rules 
in  the  world,  and  perhaps  always  will — he  is  aware  that  genius 
itself  is  often  a happy  accident.^®  Indeed,  some  of  his  inter- 
preters cannot  clearly  make  out  whether  the  superman  is  to  be 
trained  and  educated  or  is  to  come  like  a piece  of  fate.^^  Nietz- 
sche, however,  really  combines  both  views,  saying  that  we  may 
look  to  heredity,  happy  marriages,  and  to  happy  accidents  to 
give  us  great  men  “ — he  is  really  a more  balanced  thinker  than 
many  imagine. 

With  this  training  of  an  aristocracy  is  also  to  go  every 
possible  measure  for  preventing  degeneration  among  the  mass 
of  men.  Races  that  cannot  be  utilized  in  some  way  may  be 
allowed  to  die  out.  Sickly  people  and  criminals  may  be  kept 
from  propagating  themselves.®^  Nietzsche  does  not  think  much 
of  those  who  talk  of  man’s  rights  in  marriage;  it  is  better  to 
speak  of  the  right  to  marry,  and  he  thinks  it  a rare  right.  Per- 
mission to  produce  children  should  be  granted  as  a distinction — 
physicians’  certificates  being  in  order.®^  Women  have  obvious 
power  here,  and  with  power  Nietzsche  suggests  responsibility. 
Remarking  that  the  earth  might  be  turned  into  a garden  of 
happiness,  if  the  dissatisfied,  melancholy,  grumbling  could  be 
prevented  from  perpetuating  themselves,  he  intimates  here  “a 
practical  philosophy  for  the  female  sex.”  It  would  also  be 
better  if  men  of  high  intellect,  but  with  weakly  nervous  char- 
acter, could  not  be  perpetuated  in  kind.  Society  may  hold  in 
readiness  the  severest  measures  of  restriction  to  this  end,  on 
occasion  even  castration.  “The  Bible  commandment  ‘thou  shalt 
not  kill’  is  a naivete  compared  with  the  commandment  of  life 
to  decadents,  ‘ thou  shalt  not  beget.  ’ ” ®® 

Will  to  Power,  § 9C0;  cf.  WerJce,  XII,  368,  § 718. 

Cf.  Werke,  XI,  273,  § 289;  Will  to  Power,  § 907. 

E.g.,  Dorner,  op.  cit.,  pp.  194-5. 

Will  to  Power,  §§  995-6. 

Werke,  XI,  139,  §441  (cf.  J.  A.  Thomson,  “We  do  not  want  to 
eliminate  bad  stock  by  watering  it  with  good,  but  by  placing  it  under 
conditions  where  it  is  relatively  or  absolutely  infertile,”  Heredity,  p. 
331);  Werke,  XII,  188,  §404. 

”^IUd.,  XIV,  249,  § 522;  XII,  188,  § 403;  XIV,  248,  §518. 

Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 278;  Werke,  XIV,  263,  § 10;  Will  to  Power, 
§ 734  (cf.  XII,  196,  §418,  as  to  what  the  Greeks  allowed). 


THE  SUPERMAN 


409 


V 

Under  what  general  social  conditions  would  the  higher 
species  (or  the  incipient  approaches  thereto)  best  arise?  Nietz- 
sche’s view  is  almost  paradoxical.  Not  favorable,  but  unfavora- 
ble conditions  are  best  for  them.  With  all  said  and  done  as  to 
aiming  at  them  and  facilitating  them,  circumstances  must  not 
be  too  easy,  conditions  too  soft,  for  them.  He  generally  gives 
us  the  extremes  of  his  thought  (of  course,  at  different  times  or 
in  different  connections),  leaving  us  to  reconcile  them — and  I 
am  not  sure  that  I can  quite  reconcile  them  in  this  case,  ^he 
underlying  idea  is  that  the  men  of  the  future  will  be  men  of 
power  and  can  only  be  proved  by  oppositioi^  He  early  saw 
the  place  of  insecurity,  peril,  and  danger  in  educating  the  race 
and  bringing  out  its  higher  qualities,  and  he  applies  the  view 
in  the  present  connection.  He  had  made  a special  study  of 
Greek  life,  and  of  the  marked  individuals  who  appeared  in  such 
numbers  in  the  Greek  city-states  he  observes,  “It  was  necessary 
to  be  strong:  danger  was  near — it  lurked  everywhere.”  Men 
became  great  not  so  much  from  the  good  intentions  of  the 
people,  as  because  danger  challenged  them  and  they  asserted 
themselves  even  to  the  point  of  seeming  hose  to  the  people.®* 
So  with  the  Romans — they  were  the  outcome  of  a long-continued 
struggle  for  power : it  was  in  this  way  that  they  reached  their 
giant  stature,  like  that  of  a primeval  forest.®  Let  one  go 
through  history,  says  Nietzsche:  the  times  when  the  individual 
becomes  ripe  for  his  perfection,  i.e.,  free,  when  the  classic  type 
of  the  sovereign  man  is  reached — “oh,  no,  they  were  never 
humane  times ! ’ ’ There  must  be  no  choice,  either  above  or 
below  trodden  under  foot.  It  is  no  small  advantage  to  have  a 
hundred  Damoeles-swords  over  one — thereby  one  learns  to 
dance,  comes  to  “fredom  of  motion.”®®  The  view  seems  ex- 

Twilight  etc.,  x,  § 3;  Werke,  X,  384-5,  § 199. 

Will  to  Power,  § 959. 

Ibid.,  § 770;  cf.  Twilight  etc.,  ix,  §38,  and  what  Stendhal  says  of 
the  condottieri  and  small  princes  of  Italy  in  1400  (Vie  de  Napoleon,  pp. 
17-8)  ; also  what  Nietzsche  quotes,  in  explanation  of  the  success  of 
Mohammed  in  the  space  of  thirteen  years,  from  Napoleon,  “ perhaps  there 
had  been  long  civil  wars,  under  the  influence  of  which  great  characters, 
great  talents,  irresistible  impulses,  etc.,  were  formed”  (Werke,  XIII, 
330,  § 814). 


410 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


treme,  and  yet  the  very  fundamental  idea  of  Nietzsche,  that 
of  an  order  of  rank  (Rangordnung) , presupposes  differences  of 
power,  differences  usually  determined  by  opposition  and  con- 
flict— man  in  his  struggle  with  nature  being  the  grandiose  pro- 
totype. Even  under  conditions  of  civilization  one  must  guard 
against  too  much  intercourse  with  the  good-natured — for  it 
relaxes:  all  intercourse  is  good  in  which  one  is  armed  (not  neces- 
sarily with  a pistol — need  I add  for  the  benefit  of  the  simple?).®^ 
Perhaps  in  no  way  does  Nietzsche  go  so  contrary  to  current 
ways  of  thinking;  and  he  is  well  aware  of  it.  Modern  life,  he 
remarks,  wants  at  all  points  to  be  protected — yet  when  danger 
goes,  vigilance  goes,  too,  and  stimulus  and  exuberance  of  spirit, 
“coarse  remedies”  being  revolutions  and  wars.  It  may  even 
be  that  with  the  general  increase  of  security,  flneness  of  mind 
will  no  longer  be  needed — and  will  decrease  as  in  China ; 
struggle  against  Christianity,  the  anarchy  of  opinion,  competi- 
tion among  princes,  peoples,  and  business  men,  having  thus  far 
hindered  the  complete  result.®^  To  this  extent  Nietzsche  looks 
at  the  whole  modern  situation  from  an  unusual  standpoint. 
With  his  main  thought  on  the  development  of  a new  and  higher 
class  of  men,  he  exclaims,  “If  things  grow  more  insecure  about 
us,  so  much  the  better ! I wish  that  we  live  somewhat  circum- 
spectly and  martially.  ” Wars  are  for  the  time-being  the 
greatest  stimulants  of  the  imagination,  now  that  Christian 
transports  and  terrors  have  become  feeble.  The  social  revolu- 
tion which  he  thinks  is  coming  will,  perhaps,  be  something  still 
greater.  He  accordingly  faces  eventualities  of  this  sort  undis- 
turbed. The  French  Revolution,  he  observes,  made  Napoleon 
and  Beethoven  possible;  and  for  a parallel  recompense  one 
would  be  obliged  to  welcome  an  anarchistic  downfall  of  our 
whole  civilization.®”  It  is  under  conditions  of  peril  that  personal 
manly  virtue  gets  value,  and  a stronger  type,  physically  and  in 
every  way,  is  trained;  beauty  {schone  Manner)  again  becomes 
possible,  and  it  really  also  goes  better  with  the  philosophers.®^ 

And  yet  Nietzsche  had  not  had  his  Christian  education  for 

" Will  to  Power,  §§  856,  918. 

” Wer/ce,  XI,  360,  § 558;  XII,  191,  §410. 
lUd.,  XI,  368,  § 557;  ef.  142,  §451. 

Ibid.,  XI,  369,  § .559;  Will  to  Power,  §§  868,  127,  877. 

•‘'Will  to  Power,  §127;  cf.  § 729;  also  Werke,  XIII,  358,  § 882. 


THE  SUPERMAN 


411 


nothing;  and  it  is  the  necessities  of  the  situation,  the  logic  of 
the  production  of  great  men,  that  lead  him  to  say  what  he  does. 
“Persons”  do  not  come  easily  in  this  world.  Good  intentions 
alone  are  not  sufficient — the  force  of  circumstances  is  generally 
a co-operating  cause.  Moreover,  rude  situations  may  be  neces- 
sary, where  finer  ones  cannot  be  appreciated.  Speaking  of 
physical  wars  and  revolutions,  he  calls  them  ‘ ‘ coarse  remedies  ’ ’ 
[for  the  overmuch  security  in  which  we  love  to  live].  The 
general  truth  is  simply  that  a “person,”  being  by  nature  some- 
thing more  or  less  isolated,  needs  temporary  isolating  and  com- 
pulsion to  an  armed  manner  of  existence : if  this  is  not  his  for- 
tune, he  does  not  develope.  What  the  nature  of  the  compulsion 
is,  or  rather  must  be,  depends  on  the  grain  of  the  man.  Nietz- 
sche required  no  wars  or  physical  combats  to  make  him  a “per- 
son, ’ ’ and  one  of  the  most  individual  ones  of  modern  time ; but 
power  on  a lower  level  may  require  opposition  of  a coarser 
sort.  Hence,  though  it  is  quite  possible  that  the  coming  aris- 
tocracy he  looked  for  will  be  a fighting  aristocracy  (in  the 
literal  sense)  almost  from  the  start,  it  will  not  be  merely  that; 
the  fighting,  too,  may  be  forced  rather  than  chosen.  Moreover, 
the  fighting  may  be  delayed ; at  least  Nietzsche  saw  no  immediate 
occasion  for  it.  At  present,  he  says,  though  the  new  association 
will  assert  itself  in  warrior  fashion,  it  will  be  a war  without 
powder,  a war  between  ideas  and  their  marshaled  hosts.®  Most 
of  what  he  says  in  praise  of  war  (not  all)  has  reference  to  war 
of  this  sort.  How  little  physical  war  was  an  ideal  to  him  appears 
in  his  asking  whether  the  higher  species  might  not  be  reached 
in  some  better  and  quicker  way  than  by  the  fearful  play  of 
wars  and  revolutions — whether  the  end  might  not  be  gained  by 
maintaining,  training,  separating  certain  experimental  groups  ? 
His  mind  evidently  wavered  as  to  the  probable  future  course  of 
things.  One  can  only  describe  him  as  in  utrumque  paratus. 
Sometimes  he  has  misgivings  as  to  whether  we  can  foresee  the 
most  favorable  conditions  for  the  emergence  of  men  of  the 
highest  worth — it  is  too  complicated,  a thousandfold  too  com- 
plicated a matter,  and  the  chances  of  miscarriage  are  great. 

Will  to  Power,  § 886. 

Werke,  XII,  368,  § 718. 

XIII,  175-6,  § 401. 


412 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


very  great.®®  The  only  thing  plain  to  him  is  what  ought  to  be, 
what  he  desires — and  the  fact  that  we  can  set  the  type  on  high 
in  our  estimation,  and  be  ready  for  any  manifestation  of  it 
when  it  appears ; and  also  that  those  who  feel  that  they  anywise 
approximate  to  it  can  more  or  less  train  themselves. 

Of  this  self-training  Nietzsche  makes  much.  Men  of  the 
type  he  looks  for  may  heighten  courage,  insight,  hardness, 
independence,  the  feeling  of  responsibility  in  themselves — they 
may  live  differently  from  the  mass  now,  and  will  probably  find 
plenty  of  opposition  without  seeking  it  or  coming  to  an  actual 
passage  of  arms.®®  Nietzsche  was  aloof  from  the  world  of 
today,  and  had  and  has  plenty  of  opposition.  Is  not  his  an 
evil  name  in  the  mouths  of  most  men  now?  I hear  little  but 
dispraise  of  him,  or  at  best  condescension  and  pity  towards  him, 
in  America  (this  quite  apart  from  the  ignorant  abuse  of  him 
just  now,  as  one  of  the  causes  of  the  present  war).  He  himself 
had  no  illusions  about  the  probable  lot  of  men  who  thought  as 
he  did.  In  the  figure  of  Zarathustra  he  tells  us  that  he  at- 
tempted a portraiture  of  the  pain  and  sacrifice  involved  in  a 
higher  man’s  training — he  leaves  home,  family,  fatherland,  is 
contemned  by  current  morality,  and  has  the  suffering  attendant 
on  new  ventures  and  mistakes,  without  any  of  the  comfort  which 
older  ideals  bestow.®^  Nietzsche  says  of  his  own  disciples: 
“To  the  men  who  concern  me  I wish  suffering,  solitude,  illness, 
mistreatment,  disgrace — I desire  that  deep  self-contempt,  the 
suffering  of  self-mistrust,  the  pitiful  state  of  the  vanquished, 
may  not  be  unknown  to  them : I have  no  pity  for  them,  because 
I wish  them  the  one  thing  that  can  prove  today  whether  a man 
has  worth  or  not — that  he  hold  his  ground.”®®  These  men, 
looking  before  and  after,  may  in  certain  particulars  anticipate 
the  immensely  slow  processes  of  natural  selection,  put  aside 
conditions  not  propitious  to  them  (isolate  themselves),  select 
influences  (nature,  books,  high  events)  that  suit  them,  doing 
much  thinking  on  the  subject;  they  may  keep  in  mind  benevolent 
opponents  only,  independent  friends,®®  and  put  out  of  view  the 

Will  to  Power,  § 907.  Ibid.,  § 907. 

Werke  (pocket  ed),  VII,  494,  § 67. 

Will  to  Power,  § 910;  cf.  Zarathustra,  III,  iii;  IV,  xiii,  § 6. 

Nietzsche  remarks  that  “ crowds  are  not  good  even  when  they 
follow  you.” 


THE  SUPERMAN 


413 


lower  sorts  of  humanity,  practising  the  willing  blindness  and 
deafness  of  the  wise.™  Further,  they  may  concede  to  them- 
selves a right  to  exceptional  actions,  as  exercise  in  self-control 
and  in  the  use  of  freedom ; they  may  put  themselves  in  circum- 
stances where  they  are  obliged  to  be  hard;^^  they  may  win 
surplus  power  and  self-confidence  by  all  kinds  of  asceticism; 
they  may  school  themselves  in  fine  obedience  and  in  the  fixed 
sense  of  differences  of  rank  among  men,  altogether  outgrowing 
the  idea  that  what  is  right  for  one  is  allowable  for  another  and 
ceasing  to  emulate  virtues  that  belong  to  others  than  them- 
selves.™ Their  manner  of  life  will  vary  from  that  of  the  ‘ ‘ indus- 
trial masses”  (the  business  and  working  class).  Industrious 
habits,  fixed  rules,  moderation  in  all  things,  settled  convictions — 
in  short,  the  “social  virtues” — are  indeed  best  for  men  at 
large ; in  this  way  they  reach  the  perfection  of  their  type.  But 
for  the  exceptional  men  whom  Nietzsche  covets  to  see,  other 
things  are  good:  leisure,  adventure,  unbelief  [as  ordinarily 
understood],  even  excess — things  that,  if  allowed  to  average  na- 
tures, would  cause  their  undoing.  The  very  discipline  that 
strengthens  a strong  nature  and  fits  it  for  great  undertakings 
undermines  and  shatters  weaker  men — “doubt,”  la  largeur  de 
cceur,  experiment,  independence.™ 

So  may  higher  men  educate  themselves.  And  yet  to  create 
the  whole  set  of  conditions  which  accident  sometimes  provides 
for  the  appearance  of  great  individuals,  would  require,  Nietzsche 
remarks,  an  iron-hardness,  “iron  men,”  such  as  have  never 
existed.  Practically  higher  natures  can  only  train  themselves, 
utilize  any  existing  situation,  and  wait  for  developments.™ 
Wars  will  probably  come  willy-nilly,  and  though  Nietzsche  has 
little  interest  in  ordinary  wars,  serving  as  they  do  only  national 

Werke,  XII,  123-4,  § 243. 

"Nietzsche  uses  the  word  Barbar  here;  he  has  in  mind,  as  he  else- 
where explains,  not  barbarians  such  as  we  ordinarily  fear,  namely,  those 
coming  up  from  the  lower  ranks  of  society,  but  conquering,  ruling  natures 
descending  from  above,  of  whom  Prometheus  is  a type  {Will  to  Power, 
§900). 

Will  to  Power,  § 921. 

Ibid.,  §§  901,  904.  The  (or  an)  element  of  danger  in  Nietzsche’s 
teaching  is  that  those  reading  him  may  not  make  these  distinctions — 
that  one  who  is  only  an  average  man  may  think  himself  an  exception 
and  the  weak  imagine  themselves  strong. 

" Ibid.,  § 908. 


414 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


ambitions  and  aims  of  trade  [such,  I may  say  on  my  own 
account,  as  the  present  war  in  Europe]  they  may  none  the  less 
serve  in  some  measure  as  training-ground  for  the  future  type.*^ 
But  more  than  this,  the  great  war  may  come,  the  war  for  an 
idea,  for  the  rule  and  organization  of  the  earth  (since  willing 
compliance  with  the  idea  on  the  part  of  all  concerned  cannot  be 
taken  for  granted) — and  to  this,  if  it  comes,  Nietzsche’s  higher 
men  will  not  merely  consent,  they  will  inspire  and  lead  in  it. 
Oddly  as  it  may  sound  to  our  ears  today,  he  has  a special  word 
of  recognition  for  religious  wars,  and  this  just  because  they  turn 
on  intellectual  points.^®  In  general,  he  regards  the  church 
as  a superior  institution  to  the  state,  since  it  gives  to 
spiritual  things  the  first  place  and  to  spiritual  men  rather  than 
men  of  physical  force  the  supreme  authority;  and  if  war  must 
needs  be,  then  it  is  nobler  to  contend  for  shades  of  doctrine  than 
for  material  possessions.'^^  And  the  great  war,  the  only  conflict 
in  which  Nietzsche  is  supremely  interested,  will  be  one  for  a 
conception,  a philosophical  doctrine — not  with  this  as  a cloak 
for  other  aims,  but  on  behalf  of  if^® — that  conception  of  an 
ordered  world,  a rule  and  administration  of  the  round  earth, 
to  which  I have  before  alluded.  He  ventured  to  say — most 
extravagantly  perhaps,  and  perhaps  not^ — that  his  ideas  would 
precipitate  a crisis  in  the  world’s  history,  wars  ensuing  such 
as  never  had  been  known  before.'^®  The  supreme  result  would 
justify  all  it  cost,  and  would  consecrate  those  who  took  part  in 
the  struggle — for  it  is  bringing  death  into  connection  with  the 
aims  we  strive  for,  that  makes  us  reverend  {ehrwiirdig) 

VI 

Nietzsche  was  a passionate  spirit  and  took  his  ideas  greatly, 
and  would  have  others  take  them  so.  He  animadverts  on  the 
scholars  who  are  content  to  sit  in  cool  shadows ; it  is  not  enough, 
he  says,  to  prove  a thing,  one  must  win  men  over  or  lift  them 

"See,  among  many  passages,  Werke,  XIII,  357;  Beyond  Good  and 
Evil,  § 256. 

'"‘Joyful  Science,  § 144. 

” Ibid.,  §§  358,  114, 

Cf.  Werke,  XII,  207,  § 441. 

Ecce  Homo,  IV,  § 1. 

Will  to  Power,  § 982. 


THE  SUPERMAN 


415 


to  it  “ We  and  our  thoughts  are  not  to  be  like  shy  deer  hidden 
in  the  wood,  but  to  go  forth  to  conquer  and  possess.  It  may 
be  left  to  little  maidens  to  say,  “good  is  what  is  pretty  and 
touching”;  to  be  really  good  is  to  be  brave.®^  The  time  of  war 
may  not  yet  be  come;  Nietzsche  is  human  enough,  Christian 
enough  to  count  it  his  happy  fortune  that  he  lives  a preparatory 
existence  and  can  leave  to  future  man  the  conduct  of  actual 
conflicts ; ^ but  war  in  the  large  sense  belonged  to  his  nature. 
Although  I do  not  remember  his  quoting  Heraclitus’s  dictum, 
noXejxoi  ndr^p  ndvroov,  it  accords  with  his  spirit.  He  might 
also  have  said  with  Goethe : 

" Machet  nicht  viel  Federlesen, 

Schreibt  auf  meinen  Leichenstein : 

Dieser  ist  ein  MenscJi  gewesen, 

Und  das  heisst:  ein  Kdmpfer  seini  ” 

— and  he  wished  to  transmit  a legacy  of  this  spirit  to  his  dis- 
ciples. Zarathustra  says,  “Your  war  shall  ye  wage,  and  for 
the  sake  of  your  thoughts.  ...  Ye  shall  love  peace  as  a means 
to  new  wars — and  the  short  peace  more  than  the  long.  I counsel 
you  not  to  work,  but  to  conflict.  I counsel  you  not  to  peace, 
but  to  victory.  Let  your  work  be  a conflict,  your  peace  be  a 
victory ; . . . Let  your  love  to  life  be  love  to  your  highest  hope, 
and  let  your  highest  hope  be  the  highest  thought  of  life ! . . . 
What  matter  about  long  life!  What  warrior  wisheth  to  be 
spared  ? ” 

Nietzsche  had  his  dark  hours,  as  the  strongest  have,  and 
about  details  and  methods  he  had  no  settled  assurance ; but  his 
dominant  mood  was  one  of  hope.  “We  children  of  the  future, 
how  can  we  be  at  home  in  this  world  of  today?”  Zarathustra 
scarcely  knew  how  to  live,  save  as  a seer  of  things  to  come — 
so  did  the  past  oppress  him;  but  atonement  would  be  made 
for  the  shortcomings  of  the  past  and  the  great  Hazar 
be  finally  ushered  in.®®  “Have  ye  not  heard  anything  of 

* ‘ Zarathustra,  II,  xvi ; Dawn  of  Day,  § 330. 

Joyful  Science,  § 283;  Zarathustra,  I,  x. 

Wer/ce,  XII,  209,  § 442. 

Zarathustra  I,  x (practically  Common’s  translation). 

Joyful  Science,  § 377;  Zarathustra,  II,  xx;  cf.  Werke,  XIV,  306, 
§ 136;  Zarathustra,  IV,  i. 


416 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


my  children?  Speak  to  me  of  my  garden,  my  Happy  Isles, 
my  new  beautiful  race.  For  their  sake,  I am  rich,  for  their 
sake  I became  poor ; . . . what  have  I not  surrendered  ? What 
would  I not  surrender  that  I might  have  one  thing:  those 
children,  that  living  plantation,  those  life-trees  of  my  will  and 
my  highest  hope!” One  feels  the  full  longing  of  a man’s  soul 
(of  one  who  is  woman  too  in  the  great,  divine  sense  of  the 
word)  in  language  like  this.  Yet  it  is  not  mere  longing  with 
Nietzsche.  He  speaks  of  the  “unexhausted  possibilities”  of 
man  and  our  human  world.  He  is  confident  that  in  the  long 
course  of  history  the  fundamental  law  will  break  through  and 
the  best  come  at  last  to  victory — supposing  that  man  with 
supreme  determination  wills  their  supremacy.  “Prom  you,  the 
self-chosen,”  says  Zarathustra  to  his  disciples,  “shall  a chosen 
people  grow ; and  from  it  the  superman.  ’ ’ ^ Indeed,  the  con- 
ditions for  a change  in  the  general  attitude  exist  now — only 
the  great  persuasive  men  are  lacking.®*  And  from  the  class  of 
new  moralists,  or,  as  he  daringly  said,  “immoralists,”  he  be- 
lieved they  would  arise.  “We  immoralists,”  he  declares — and 
it  is  one  of  his  proudest  utterances — “are  today  the  only  power 
that  needs  no  allies  in  order  to  come  to  victory:  hereby  we  are 
by  far  the  strongest  of  the  strong.  We  do  not  even  need  false- 
hood : what  other  power  can  dispense  with  it  ? A strong  allure- 
ment fights  for  us — perhaps  the  strongest  that  exists,  the  allure- 
ment of  the  truth.”  And  then  disdaining  that  word  as  savoring 
of  presumption,  he  adds,  “The  charm  that  fights  for  us,  the 
Venus-eye  that  ensnares  even  our  opponents  and  blinds  them,  is 
the  magic  of  extremes,  the  allurement  that  goes  with  all  daring 
to  the  utmost.” 

Itself  an  extreme  utterance,  we  say.  But  it  may  be  safer  to 
let  the  future  decide  that.  In  this  strange  world,  the  unex- 
pected, the  undreamed  of,  sometimes  happens. 

Zarathustra,  IV,  xi. 

^’’Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §§  45,  203;  Zarathustra,  I,  xxii,  §2; 
Werke,  XIV,  71,  § 137. 

»»  Werlce,  XI,  372,  § 567. 

*“  Will  to  Power,  § 749.  In  Ecce  Ilomo,  III,  ix,  § 2,  he  says,  in 
speaking  of  the  new  hopes  and  tasks  for  mankind,  “ I am  their  happy 
messenger  ” ( cf . IV,  § 1 ) . 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 


SOCIAL  CRITICISM.  ANALYSIS  OF  MODERN  SOCIAL 
TENDENCIES 

The  general  moral  view  set  forth  in  the  preceding  pages  im- 
plies an  ideal  of  social  organization — indeed,  the  two  things  are 
so  closely  connected  that  Nietzsche’s  ideal  has  already  been 
adumbrated  and  I shall  have  only  now  to  make  it  somewhat 
more  articulate. 

By  way  of  preface  I may  summarize  his  criticism  of  existing 
society. 


I 

In  a broad,  general  way,  the  present  is  to  him  a time  of 
disorganization  and  degeneration.  Strong,  ruling  forces — the 
condition  of  organization  and  of  advancing  life — do  not  appear. 
The  old  aristocracies  are  themselves  corrupted ; they  have 
spoiled  the  image  of  the  ruler  for  us^ — that  is,  have  robbed  it 
of  the  dignity  and  grace  it  once  had  in  men’s  eyes.  The  con- 
trary idea  is  that  of  freedom,  and  under  its  influence,  with 
whatever  compensatory  features,  a vast  amount  of  commonness 
and  vulgar  egoism  has  been  let  loose  on  the  world.  There  are 
two  moments  in  the  secular  process  of  society:  (1)  the  ever- 
growing conquest  of  larger  but  weaker  social  groups  by  smaller 
but  stronger  ones;  (2)  the  ever-greater  conquest  of  the  stronger 
[within  a group]  by  the  mass,  and  in  consequence  the  advent 
of  democracy,  with  anarchy  of  the  elements  as  a flnal  result.^ 
We  are  in  the  second  stage  of  the  process  now.  The  institutions 
in  which  and  by  which  society  has  lived  and  been  strong  in  the 
past  are  slowly  dissolving.  Men  call  it  progress,  and  if  progress 

' Will  to  Power,  § 750.  Nietzsche  thinks  that  Aryan  blood,  whence 
European  aristocracies  originally  sprung,  is  no  longer  predominant  in 
the  Western  world — the  pre-Aryan  populations,  a more  numerous  and 
more  social,  but  inferior  breed,  having  now  in  effect  the  upper  hand 
{Genealogy  etc.,  I,  §§  5,  11;  cf.  Werke,  XIV,  218,  §440). 

“ Will  to  Power,  § 712. 


417 


418 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


is  movement  and  movement  to  an  end,  progress  it  is — but,  to 
Nietzsche,  progressive  decline.  Democracy  he  calls  “a  form  of 
decline  {Verfallsform)  of  the  state.^  However  justifiable,  or 
at  least  excusable,  as  a temporary  measure  it  may  be,  it  repre- 
sents a form  of  unbelief— unbelief  in  great  men  and  a select 
society:  “we  are  all  equal,”  it  says.^  The  sentiment  of  hostility 
to  whatever  rules  or  wills  to  rule,  which  underlies  it,  Nietzsche 
calls  “misarchism” — admitting  that  it  is  a bad  word  for  a bad 
thing.®  The  individual  wants  to  be  free,  but  as  most  are  con- 
stituted, “freedom”  is  a misfortune  for  them.  European 
democracy  is  to  a certain  extent  a liberation  of  powers,  but  to 
a far  greater  extent  a liberation  of  weaknesses  and  other  ig- 
noble things.®  The  demand  for  independence,  for  free  develop- 
ment, for  laisser  aller  is  most  hotly  made  by  those  for  whom  no 
control  could  be  too  strict.'^  “A  more  common  kind  of  men 
are  getting  the  upper  hand  (in  place  of  the  nohlesse,  or  the 
priests)  : first  the  business  people,  then  the  workers.”®  These 
classes,  whom  Nietzsche  puts  together  as  “Pdbel,”  “ Gesindel,” 
are  the  “lords  of  today”:  for  there  need  be  no  illusions — though 
they  may  talk  only  of  freedom,  they  really  want  to  rule.®  They 
have  their  place,  even  a necessary  place,  in  society,  but  they 
are  a lower  type  of  men,  and  when  they  wish  to  order  every- 
thing for  their  own  benefit,  their  selfishness  is  only  less  revolt- 
ing than  that  of  degenerates,  who  say  “all  for  myself.”^® 
Nietzsche  refers  in  Zarathustra  to  the  “too  many,”  the  “much 
too  many,”  and  it  is  commonly  assumed  (in  accordanee  with 
the  usual  manner  of  discourse  in  England  and  America)  that 
he  has  in  mind  the  vast  working  populations  of  our  time;  but 
he  is  really  thinking  of  the  lower  sorts  of  men  in  general,  and 
it  happens  (perhaps  does  not  merely  “happen”)  that  those 
whom  he  specially  mentions  are  the  rich  and  would-be  rich,  clam- 
berers  for  power,  journalists  and  the  educated  class.”  “They 

® Twilight  etc.,  ix,  § 39 ; cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 203 ; Human, 
etc.,  § 472. 

‘ Will  to  Power,  § 752. 

' Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 12. 

* Will  to  Power,  § 762. 

’ Twilight  etc.,  ix,  § 41. 

« Werke,  XI,  374,  § 570. 

* Zarathustra,  IV,  xiii,  § 3 ; Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 225. 

Zarathustra,  I,  xxii,  § 1. 

Ibid.,  I,  xi.  Cf.  further,  as  to  the  “much  too  many,”  I,  ix;  II,  vi. 


ANALYSIS  OF  MODERN  SOCIAL  TENDENCIES  419 


gain  wealth  and  are  poorer  with  it.”  A king  in  Zarathustra 
says  that  he  would  rather  live  among  hermits  and  goat-herds 
than  with  our  gilded,  false,  painted  populace  {Pdbel),  though 
it  call  itself  “good  society,”  or  “nobility” — healthy,  hard- 
necked peasants  are  better ‘ ‘ Populace  below,  populace  above ! 
what  is  today  ‘poor’  and  ‘rich’?”  “This  distinction  I un- 
learned,” says  another  character,  whom  Zarathustra  chides  a 
little,  but  does  not  really  condemn.  Greed,  envy,  revenge,  pride 
— these  are  more  or  less  the  motives  all  around.^^ 

The  modern  ideas  of  “freedom,”  “equal  rights,”  “no 
masters  and  no  slaves,”  are  sometimes  traced  to  France  and  the 
eighteenth  century,  but  Nietzsche  thinks  that  they  are  really 
and  ultimately  of  English  origin — the  French  being  only  the 
apes  and  actors  of  them,  also  their  best  soldiers,  and  alas ! their 
first  and  profoundest  victims.^*  The  ideas  played  a part  too 
in  the  German  Reformation,  which  on  one  side  was  a kind  of 
peasants’  insurrection,  an  eruption  of  common  instincts,  with 
pillage,  lust  for  the  riches  of  the  churches,  and  an  unchaining 
of  the  senses,  following  in  its  wake.^^  Going  back  further  still, 
the  modern  movement  is  a continuation  and  materialistic  ren- 
dering of  the  slave-insurrection  in  morality,  which  began  in 
ancient  Israel  and  was  carried  on  by  Christianity — setting  on 
high,  as  it  did,  the  common  man  and  his  interests  and  valua- 
tions, and  bent  on  abasing  the  powerful  and  the  great. 

II 

But  whatever  its  origin  and  spiritual  filiations,  the  move- 
ment is  growing  and  taking  on  ever  more  pronounced  forms. 
The  long,  slow  insurrection  of  populace  and  slaves  (the  two  are 
almost  equivalent  expressions  to  Nietzsche)  “grows  and 
grows.”  It  is  not  that  want  is  greater,  that  social  conditions 
are  worse  — the  causes  are  of  another  order.  The  business 
class  have  not  perhaps  much  more  to  get ; but  as  to  the  working 
class,  it  is  just  because  the  laborer  finds  himself  relatively  so 

IMd.,  IV,  iii,  § 1. 

^‘Ibid.,  IV,  viii. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 253. 

^'‘Joyful  Science,  § 358;  Werke,  XIII,  333,  § 827. 

Zarathustra,  IV,  viii;  cf.  Werke,  XI,  367-8,  § 556. 

Will  to  Power,  § 55. 


420 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


well  off  that  he  asks  for  more,  and  asks  it  more  immodestly 
“Now  all  benevolence  and  small  charity  stirs  up  the  low,  and 
the  over-rich  had  better  be  on  their  guard!  When  today  a 
person  pours  from  a big  bottle  through  too  small  a neck,  people 
break  the  neek.”^®  Nietzsche  was  one  of  the  few  to  see  the 
intimate  connection  of  democracy  with  socialism.  They  are,  to 
his  mind,  successive  waves  of  one  ground-swell.  As  the  demo- 
cratic movement  is  the  heir  of  the  Christian,  so  socialism  is  the 
natural  offspring  of  democracy.  If  workingmen  are  given  po- 
litical rights,  it  is  only  to  be  expected  that,  as  the  largest  factor 
in  the  population,  they  will  become  the  determining  factor  in 
the  state  and  try  to  order  things  for  their  own  benefit:  the 
principle  of  majority-rule  brings  this  species  of  rule  with  it. 
In  the  lukewarm  (lauen)  atmosphere  of  democratic  ease,  this 
may  not  be  perceived — the  power  to  draw  conclusions  relaxes 
under  a laisser  faire  regime ; but  the  conclusion  is  inevitable.^®  ® 
It  is,  indeed,  often  said  that  there  is  an  essential  difference  be- 
tween democracy  and  socialism,  in  that  the  former  aims  simply 
at  individual  liberty  and  independence,  or,  as  James  Russell 
Lowell  put  it, 

" To  make  a man  a Man  an’  let  him  be,” 

while  socialism  would  submerge  individual  liberty  under  a 
regime  of  strict  social  organization.  But  the  socialists  are  keen 
enough  to  see  (it  is  really  a very  old  truth)  that  individual 
aims  may  sometimes  best  be  secured  by  social  organization — 
the  individual  first  getting  effective  rights  and  powers  in  this 
way.  That  is  to  say,  socialism  and  individualism  are  not  really 
antithetical,  but  play  into  one  another;  as  Nietzsche  says,  “So- 
cialism is  only  a means  of  agitation  for  individualism.’’^^  It 
is  but  a specious  self-surrender  to  the  whole  which  the  socialist 
workingman  makes — he  gives  himself  up  only  the  better  to 
secure  individual  rights  and  enjoyment ; the  whole  is  simply  a 
new  instrument  with  which  to  serve  private  aims.^  Moreover, 

” Twilight  etc.,  ix,  § 40. 

Zarathustra,  IV,  viii. 

^'‘Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 202;  Tivilight  etc.,  ix,  § 940;  Will  to 
Power,  § 125. 

Will  to  Power,  § 784. 

In  other  classes,  however,  a socialistic  way  of  thinking  resting  on 
broad  grounds  of  justice  is  possible  (Human,  etc.,  §451). 


ANALYSIS  OF  MODERN  SOCIAL  TENDENCIES  421 


without  intending  to,  democratic  institutions  are  making  social- 
ism practically  possible,  for  they  are  putting  into  the  worker’s 
hands  the  means  for  obtaining  his  ends.  They  are  giving  him 
the  ballot,  giving  him  the  right  of  combination,  making  him 
capable  of  bearing  arms  {militdrtilchtig) . He  thus  becomes  part 
of  the  political  power,  yes,  in  virtue  of  his  numbers,  the  leading 
factor  in  it — he  can  do  what  he  will,  at  least  can  try  to  (for 
there  may  be  a gap  between  the  hope  and  the  performance)  P 
The  socialist  movement  sometimes  takes  on  an  anarchist 
form.  The  final  aims  are  the  same,  but  the  anarchists  are  more 
impatient,  wish  to  proceed  more  summarily  with  the  existing 
drder.  Nietzsche  has  in  mind  such  communist-anarchists  as  we 
in  America  knew  (particularly  in  Chicago)  in  the  eighties,  not 
of  course  the  so-called  “philosophical  anarchists” — who  are  not 
socialists  at  all.  As  socialism  is  a means  of  agitation  for  indi- 
vidualism, so  this  anarchism  is  a means  of  agitation  for  social- 
ism; with  it  socialism  excites  fear  and  begins  to  have  the 
fascination  of  fearful  things — it  draws  the  bold,  the  adventur- 
ous to  its  side,  the  intellectually  daring  included.  Uprisings, 
violences,  novel  state-experiments  are  to  be  expected.^ 

Ill 

What  unites  anarchism,  socialism,  and  democracy  is  the 
common  man’s  impatience  of  rule,  his  hatred  of  lords  and  mas- 
ters, his  opposition  to  laws  he  does  not  himself  make,  his  dis- 
allowance of  separate  and  special  claims,  rights,  and  privileges — 
this  on  the  negative  side.  Positively,  as  already  stated,  he  wants 
himself  to  rule,  to  bring  all  that  has  hitherto  been  separate  and 
on  high  into  subjection  to  him : it  is  an  extreme  of  self-assertion, 
of  will  to  power — only  now  not  in  the  quarter  where  we  have 
been  accustomed  to  look  for  it.®  Eestraint  from  tradition  is  as 
unwelcome  as  from  rulers.  The  tendency  is  to  judge  every- 
thing by  individual  standards,  to  make  personal  or  even  mo- 
mentary happiness  the  measure  of  right  and  wrong.  Authori- 
ties are  questioned,  the  aged  no  longer  have  the  accustomed 
reverence,  institutions  grow  weak,  discipline  and  the  idea  of 

Twilight  etc.,  ix,  §40;  Will  to  Power,  § 754;  Dawn  of  Day,  §§14, 
206 ; Werlce,  XI,  369,  § 559. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 202;  Will  to  Power,  §§  753,  784. 

Cf.  Werke,  XII,  205,  § 436;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 202. 


422 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


discipline  tend  to  vanish.  On  the  other  hand,  the  desire  for 
personal  enjoyment,  for  wealth  and  luxury,  knows  no  bounds. 
Nietzsche  once  gives  a formal  characterization  of  modernity: 
absence  of  moral  discipline — human  beings  being  left  to  grow; 
lack  of  authority;  lack  of  moderation  within  settled  horizons; 
lack  of  fineness  in  judgment;  a chaos  of  contradictory  valua- 
tions.“  They  are  marks  of  life  in  process  of  disorganization. 
Nietzsche  admits  that  our  institutions  no  longer  fit  us,  but  he 
says  that  the  trouble  is  with  us,  not  with  them.  We  live  for 
today,  live  very  fast,  very  irresponsibly — this  is  our  “free- 
dom”; at  the  mere  mention  of  “authority”  we  think  we  are  in 
danger  of  a new  slavery.  But  in  order  that  there  may  be  great 
social  growths  and  institutions  that  fit  them,  there  must  be  a 
species  of  will,  instinct,  imperative,  which  is  “antiliberal  bis 
zur  Bosheit”;  a will  to  tradition,  to  authority,  to  responsibility 
stretching  over  centuries,  to  a solidarity  of  the  generations  for- 
ward and  backward  in  infinitum.  Then  comes  a growth  like  the 
imperium  Romanum.^ 

To  illustrate  what  he  means,  he  speaks  of  marriage.  The 
institution  is  losing  its  reason  today — why?  Because  the  in- 
stincts and  aims  that  have  created  it  and  lie  back  of  it  are  dis- 
appearing. More  and  more  there  is  a tendency  to  (Nietzsche 
says  “indulgence  in  favor  of”)  love-matches.  But  the  institu- 
tions of  society  are  never  founded  on  an  idiosyncrasy,  and  mar- 
riage cannot  rest  on  an  idiosyncrasy  like  “love.”  At  its  basis 
is  a combination  of  impulses  belonging  to  human  nature,  i.e., 
strong  human  nature,  as  such:  the  impulse  of  sex,  the  impulse 
of  property  (wife  and  child  as  property),  the  impulse  of 
dominion,  which  continually  organizes  that  smallest  social  struc- 
ture, the  family,  and  which  needs  children  and  heirs  in  order  to 
hold  fast  even  physiologically  an  attained  measure  of  power, 
influence,  wealth,  and  so  to  make  possible  tasks  and  instinct- 
solidarity  reaching  from  century  to  century.  The  reason  of 
marriage  lay  in  the  sole  juristic  responsibility  of  the  man — 
thereby  it  got  a center  of  gravity,  while  today  it  goes  hitching 
along  {auf  beiden  Beinen  hinkt)  ; it  lay  in  its  indissolubleness 

2«  WerJce,  XIV,  203,  § 404.  The  socialist  apostles  are  reproached  for 
undermining  the  workingman’s  satisfaction  with  his  small  round  of  exist- 
ence and  pleasure  in  it  {The  Antichristian,  §57). 

Twilight  etc.,  ix,  § 39. 


ANALYSIS  OF  MODERN  SOCIAL  TENDENCIES  423 


in  principle — thereby  it  won  an  authority  that  could  make  itself 
heard  over  against  accidents  of  feeling,  passion,  and  the  moment ; 
it  lay  in  the  responsibility  of  the  families  concerned  for  the 
selection  of  the  marriage  partners — the  whole  presupposing  a 
lasting  organization  of  society  itself,  under  whose  protection 
and  guarantees  the  family-process  could  go  on.  But  in  these 
modern  days,  with  idiosyncrasies,  thoughts  of  momentary  pleas- 
ure rampant,  marriage  is  losing  its  meaning — hence  its  tendency 
to  disappear.  The  objection,  however,  is  not  to  marriage,  but  to 
modernity.^  It  is  but  an  instance.  All  along  the  line  tradition 
is  attacked — tradition  which  is  the  condition  of  the  possibility  of 
a continuity  of  valuations  and  policies  over  long  stretches  of 
time.  The  whole  Western  world  lacks  the  instincts  out  of 
which  institutions  grow,  out  of  which  a future  grows.  Among 
former  means  for  producing  continuity  in  the  generations  have 
been  inalienable  ownership  of  land  and  reverence  for  ancestors : 
our  tendencies  are  in  an  opposite  direction — land  becomes  an 
individual  possession  and  is  sold  according  to  individual  pleas- 
ure; it  is  one  more  exhibition  of  our  ruling  idea  of  each  man 
for  himself,  and  even  for  the  mood  of  the  moment.® 

Along  with  this  egoistic,  momentary  life  goes  a variety  of 
lesser  traits  characteristic  of  the  time.  There  is  a feverish 
haste,  an  aimlessness  (easy  turning  from  one  aim  to  another), 
an  over-stimulation  of  the  head  and  senses  (the  peasant  himself 
being  drawn  into  the  cities  and  their  whirl),  a growth  of 
nervous  diseases  and  insanity,  an  increase  of  alcoholism,  vice, 
crime,  celibacy,  libertinism,  pessimism,  anarchism  (they  are 
all  classed  together  by  Nietzsche),  an  inability  to  resist  impulse 
and  yet  a need  for  resistance  (itself  a “formula  for  decadence,” 
since,  when  life  is  moving  upward,  happiness  and  instinct 
coincide).®  This  does  not  mean  that  there  is  not  fairly  good 
order  in  modern  society — the  business  classes,  the  enjoying 
classes,  and  the  general  comfort  require  it.  Indeed,  there  is 
almost  too  much  order.  “The  streets  so  clean,  the  police  so 
superabundant,  manners  so  peaceable,  events  so  small,  so  pre- 

Ihid.,  ix,  § 39.  Cf.  the  reflection  in  Zarathustra,  I,  xx,  on  the  low 
ideas  of  marriage  of  the  “ much-too-many.” 

Will  to  Power,  §§  65,  67. 

^»Cf.  ibid.,  §§  748,  42-50;  Werke,  XIV,  119,  §251;  214-5;  Twilight 
etc.,  ii,  § 11. 


424 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


dictable,  that  one  aime  la  grandeur  et  I’imprevu.”^^  But  there 
is  little  vigor  in  the  social  body.  Indeed,  there  scarcely  is 
a social  body,  but  rather  a conglomerate  of  egoistic  individuals, 
who  tolerate  one  another  and  on  occasion  help  one  another  and 
have  too  much  sensibility  and  pity  to  do  what  the  health  of 
the  social  organism  really  requires.  For  there  are  unsound 
elements  in  society  today,  inappropriable,  useless  individuals, 
refuse,  and  society  should  slough  them  off  (Nietzsche  uses  the 
word  “excrete”).  The  vicious,  the  criminal,  the  insane,  the 
anarchists  come  under  this  head.  Nietzsche  is  satirical  toward 
tout  comprendre  c’est  tout  pardonner}^  He  regards  the  de- 
mand for  the  abolition  of  punishment  as  diseased  mellowness 
and  effeminacy — sometimes  weak  nerves  more  than  anything 
else.^  The  brutal,  the  canaille,  and  the  cattle  should  be  strictly 
controlled — or  else  removed.^  As  one  cannot  carry  the  law  of 
altruism  into  physiology  and  put  hopelessly  diseased  parts  of 
the  organism  on  a par  with  sound  ones,  so  with  the  social  body. 
Nature  is  not  to  be  set  down  as  unmoral  for  showing  no  pity  to 
what  is  degenerate,  and  it  is  a sickly  and  unnatural  morality 
which  has  brought  about  the  accumulation  of  physiological  and 
moral  evils  which  we  witness  in  society  today All  of  which 
is  to  say  that  modern  society  is  not  properly  a “society,”  a 
“body”  at  all — being  without  the  normal  instincts  of  one.^ 

Werhe,  XIV,  208,  § 417. 

Will  to  Power,  § 81. 

‘^Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §201;  Werke,  XIII,  199,  § 438.  Cf.,  as  to 
mildness  to  crime  and  stupidity,  Will  to  Power,  § 130;  as  to  the  anarchist 
attitude  to  punitive  justice.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 202.  For  all  this, 
Nietzsche  gives  no  sanction  to  the  spirit  of  revenge  and  does  not  really 
unsay  what  he  had  said  about  punishment  before. 

“ Cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  237-8. 

Will  to  Power,  § 52;  cf.  Ecce  Homo,  III,  v,  § 2. 

Will  to  Power,  § 50. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 


SOCIAL  CONSTRUCTION.  THE  IDEAL  ORGANIZATION  OF 

SOCIETY 

I TURN  now  to  Nietzsche’s  construction  in  the  social  realm. 
There  have  been  anticipations  of  the  ideal  he  presents  in  Plato’s 
“Republic,”  and  practical  approximations  to  it  in  aristo- 
cratically organized  societies  among  the  Hindus  and  Greeks 
and  Romans;  but  in  just  the  form  it  takes  in  Nietzsche’s  mind, 
it  appears  to  be  his  own  creation.  In  this  chapter  I shall 
indicate  the  broad  basic  outlines  of  his  view,  and  in  the  next 
certain  political  applications  of  it,  along  with  some  of  his 
anticipations  of  the  future. 


1 

In  a general  way  the  theory  may  be  characterized  as  the 
extreme  antithesis  of  the  democratic  theory,  especially  of  the 
democratic-socialist  theory.  Its  fundamental  idea  is  that  of 
an  order  of  rank  (Rangordnung)  as  opposed  to  equality.  “I 
am  impelled  in  an  age  of  universal  suffrage,  i.e.,  where  every- 
body dares  sit  in  judgment  on  everything,  to  propose  an  order 
of  rank  again.”  ^ There  are  not  merely  differences,  peculiari- 
ties, varying  gifts,  but  higher  and  lower  among  men — some 
should  rule,  others  be  ruled.  Every  elevation  of  the  human 
type  has  been  hitherto  the  work  of  an  aristocracy,  and  so  it 
will  always  be — that  is,  of  a society  that  believes  in  a long 
scale  of  gradations  of  rank  and  differences  of  value  among 
human  beings  and  has  need  of  slavery  in  some  form  or  other.^ 
The  idea  of  a Rangordnung  is  a general  one,®  and  in  the  social 
realm  has  only  a particular  application.  It  holds  throughout 
nature,  and  man’s  place  in  the  cosmos  is  determined  by  the 
fact  that  he  can  more  or  less  rule  there — a very  weak  being, 

* Will  to  Power,  § 854.  Rangordnung  appears  as  the  express  antith- 
esis of  equality  and  equal  rights  in  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 30. 

“ Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 257. 

425 


426 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


making  himself  master  by  his  intelligence  and  bringing  less 
intelligent  forces  under  his  yoke.  For  the  basis  of  rank  is 
power,  and  nothing  else;  the  Rangordnung  has  fixed  itself  by 
the  victory  of  the  stronger.^  In  man’s  body  there  are  ruling 
forces  and  others  which  are  subjected  and  turned  into  func- 
tions— and  when  mighty  individuals  appear  in  society  and  turn 
the  mass  into  their  instruments,  it  is  something  analogous.^ 
Behind  these  natural  differences  in  power  it  is  impossible  to  go. 
The  only  reasonable  matter  of  inquiry  is  whether  at  any  given 
time  and  place  actual  relations  correspond  with  them.  History 
is  a kind  of  trying  out  of  this  question.  “Who  can  command, 
who  must  obey — that  is  there  tried  out,”  and  Nietzsche  adds, 
“ah,  with  what  long  seeking  and  guessing  and  failure  to  guess 
and  learning  and  re-experimenting!”  Society  itself  is  an  ex- 
periment, and  what  is  sought  is  those  who  can  command.  It 
is  no  contract  which  binds  together  the  commanding  and  obey- 
ing elements,  but  something  more  primordial — each  side  in  the 
end  falls  into  the  place  belonging  to  it  by  nature.  Nor  is  it 
necessarily  harm  for  men  to  be  subjected — sometimes  Nietzsche 
uses  language  which  suggests  quite  the  reverse.  Wherever,  he 
says,  there  is  a spring  for  many  who  are  thirsty,  one  heart  for 
many  who  long,  one  will  for  many  fitted  to  be  instruments, 
there  a people  arises.®  As  stated  in  an  earlier  connection,  there 
may  be  willingness  to  obey,  to  be  used.®  Yet  the  first  require- 
ment of  social  existence  is  men  who  can  command — who  have 
the  right  to.  “At  the  summit  of  states  should  stand  the  higher 
man;  all  other  political  forms  are  attempts  to  provide  a sub- 
stitute for  his  self-demonstrating  authority.”^  Attempts  to 
provide  such  substitutes  are  common  today.  By  adding  to- 
gether a sufficient  number  of  men  from  the  ranks  it  is  thought 
that  the  leader  or  commander  may  be  replaced — this  is  the 
origin  in  Nietzsche’s  estimation  of  the  various  sorts  of  repre- 
sentative government.  But  he  does  not  think  that  arithmetic 

“ Will  to  Poioer,  § 855;  cf.  § 1024;  Werke,  XIII,  170,  § 393. 

‘ Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 660. 

° Zarathustra,  III,  xii,  § 25.  Undoubtedly  Nietzsche  speaks  at  other 
times  as  if  subjection  meant  harm.  He  has  different  points  of  view  at 
different  times,  and  it  is  hard  to  reconcile  them — but  see  pp.  447-8,  also 
p.  287,  of  this  volume. 

«P.  287. 

’ Werke,  XIV,  66,  § 131. 


THE  IDEAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  SOCIETY 


427 


can  solve  the  question — there  are  two  different  categories  of 
men.®  He  would  have  agreed  with  Emerson,  when,  in  speaking 
of  aristocracy,  the  latter  says,  “If  they  provoke  anger  in  the 
least  favored  class,  and  the  excluded  majority  revenge  them- 
selves on  the  excluding  minority  by  the  strong  hand,  and  kill 
them,  at  once  a new  class  finds  itself  at  the  top,  as  certainly 
as  cream  rises  in  a bowl  of  milk;  and  if  the  people  should 
destroy  class  after  class,  until  two  men  only  were  left,  one 
of  these  would  be  the  leader,  and  would  be  involuntarily  served 
and  copied  by  the  other.  You  may  keep  this  minority  out  of 
sight  and  out  of  mind,  but  it  is  tenacious  of  life  and  one  of 
the  estates  of  the  realm.”®  No  one  who  has  read  the  preceding 
chapters  will  imagine  that  in  speaking  of  rulers  Nietzsche  has 
in  mind  simply  men  of  physical  force — they  are  not  even  that 
plus  courage  and  will  and  many  heroic  qualities.  It  is  above 
all  intellectual  greatness  that  marks  the  ruler;  if  he  has  not 
this,  he  may  make  trouble,  even  if  he  wishes  to  do  well  and 
practise  justice.  Minds  that  are  not  of  the  highest  order 
should  obey,  rather  than  rule.“ 

In  two  or  three  places  Nietzsche  presents  his  ideal  of  social 
organization  in  some  detail.  In  the  principal  passage,^  he 
does  so  in  connection  with  a discussion  of  the  Hindu  Law-book 
of  Manu,  but  it  is  evidently  his  own  conception  he  brings  out,, 
although  this  stands  in  close  agreement  with  the  presupposi- 
tions of  that  ancient  book.  After  saying  that  the  order  of 
castes  there  revealed  is  only  the  sanction  of  a natural  order,, 
he  goes  on  to  the  effect  that  in  every  healthy  society,  three- 
physiological  types  appear,  conditioning  one  another,  yet  sep- 
arate from  one  another,  each  of  which  has  its  own  hygiene,  its 
own  realm  of  activity,  its  own  feeling  of  perfection  and  master- 
ship. They  are  not  absolutely  marked  off  from  one  another, 
but  one  class  is  “predominantly”  spiritual  or  intellectual,  an- 
other has  predominant  muscular  and  temperamental  strength, 
while  the  third  are  those  who  are  not  distinguished  in  either 
respect,  being  simply  the  average  individuals  who  constitute 

® Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 199. 

* “ Manners,”  in  Society  and  Solitude.  Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 784,  on 
the  eventual  rise  of  a Rangordnung  even  in  an  individual  order  of  things. 

Will  to  Power,  § 984. 

The  Antichristian,  § 57. 


428 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


the  bulk  of  the  society,  the  others  being  the  exceptions.  The 
first  class,  who  as  the  most  spiritual  are  the  strongest,  are  the 
supreme  ruling  class ; but  they  rule  by  weight  of  their  ideas  and 
because  they  body  forth  a relative  perfection  of  the  human 
type,  not  in  less  ways  or  by  lesser  means — not  then  because 
they  will  to,  but  because  of  what  they  are:  they  are  not  at 
liberty  to  take  a second  place.  They  give  the  supreme  direction 
to  social  action,  make  the  supreme  law  of  the  social  constitution. 
The  second  class  are  their  instruments  for  governing.  They 
are  the  warders  of  justice,  the  guardians  of  order  and  security, 
the  higher  ranks  of  soldiers,  above  all  the  king  as  the  highest 
formula  of  soldier,  judge,  and  maintainer  of  the  law.  They 
take  from  the  first  class  all  that  is  gross  and  rude  {grab)  in  the 
work  of  ruling — are  their  attendants,  their  right  hand,  their 
best  pupils.  The  third  class  engage  in  manual  labor,  in  busi- 
ness, in  agriculture,  in  science  (as  distinguished  from  phi- 
losophy), in  the  ordinary  forms  of  art — that  is,  any  kind  of 
work,  which  is  special,  professional,  and  more  or  less  mechan- 
ical. They  naturally  incline  in  these  directions,  as  the  others 
do  in  theirs ; not  society,  but  their  own  kind  of  happiness  makes 
them  intelligent  machines — they  delight  in  mastership  along 
their  special  line,  though  they  may  have  slight  comprehension 
of  the  ultimate  significance  of  the  work  they  do.'^  The  third 
class  make  the  broad  base  on  which  the  whole  social  structure 
Tests,  this  being  conceived  pyramidically. 

Three  things  are  to  be  noted  about  this  social  classification : 
(1)  While  the  first  two  classes  represent  the  higher  ranges  of 
human  life,  the  attaining  of  which  is  the  supreme  end  to  Nietz- 
sche, they  are  marked  off  from  each  other — the  theory  of  the 
first  class  being  specially  developed  and  being  that  part  of  his 
general  view  which  Nietzsche  had  most  at  heart.  (2)  The 
lowest  class — the  great  average  mass — has  in  his  eyes  an  im- 
portant, yes  indispensable  place  in  the  social  structure:  this  in 
contrast  with  the  attitude  of  depreciation  and  contempt  often 
exclusively  attributed  to  him.  (3)  There  is  an  organic  relation 
of  all  the  classes — each  being  necessary  to  the  other  and  to  the 

“ Earlier  Nietzsche  had  distinguished  the  manual  laborer  from  the 
scientific  specialist  as  a “fourth  estate”  (“David  Strauss  etc.,”  sect.  8), 
but  he  now  puts  them  together  in  the  same  class. 


THE  IDEAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  SOCIETY  429 


whole:  this  as  against  the  “social  dualism”  sometimes  charged 
to  him.  I shall  take  up  these  points  in  order. 

II 

When  Nietzsche  argues,  as  against  the  more  or  less  anarchic 
democracy  and  individualism  of  today,  for  the  necessity  of 
rule,  he  has  not  so  much  in  mind  rulers  in  the  ordinary  sense 
(kings,  judges,  legislators)  as  the  supreme  will  and  thought 
on  which  rule  is  based — that  is,  the  first  class  mentioned,  who 
are  apart  from  and  above  the  political  mechanism  itself.  This 
is  perhaps  the  most  novel  feature  in  Nietzsche’s  social  scheme. 
Did  not  even  Plato  wish  the  philosopher  to  rule,  to  be  on  the 
throne?  But  Nietzsche’s  highest  type  of  man  views  ruling  as 
beneath  him — it  is  the  function  of  a lower  class;  he  is  above 
kings,  though  his  thought  is  law  for  kings  and  he  uses  them  as 
his  instruments.  In  this,  in  a sense,  most  secular  and  irreligious 
of  modern  thinkers,  there  arises  thus  the  idea  of  a spiritual 
power  over  against  the  temporal,  and  superior  to  it.‘^  The 
state  is  an  instrument  for  ends  beyond  itself,  and  has  restricted 
supremacy  and  domain.  It  may  be  best  to  give  Nietzsche’s 
own  words  here.  “Beyond  the  ruling  class  loosed  from  all 
bonds,  live  the  highest  men : and  in  the  rulers  they  have  their 
instruments. ” “These  lords  of  the  earth  are  now  to  replace 
God,  and  to  win  for  themselves  the  deep  and  unconditional 
trust  of  the  ruled.  ’ ’ They  renounce  aims  of  happiness  and  com- 
fort; they  give  expectations  of  this  sort  to  the  lowest,  but  not 
to  themselves.  They  have  an  eye  to  the  whole  range  of  social 
need,  redeeming  the  miserable  by  the  doctrine  of  “speedy 
death,”  and  favoring  religions  and  systems  of  ideas  according 
as  they  are  suited  to  this  grade,  or  to  that  {je  nach  der  Rangord- 
nung)}^  They  are  a kind  of  moral  providence  for  men,  and 
rule  by  their  moral  authority  only — though  none  the  less 
effectively. 

And  yet  this  relation  to  society  does  not  exhaust  their 
activity.  Here  Nietzsche  developes,  or  rather  starts  upon,  a 
still  more  venturesome  line  of  thought.  Its  presupposition  is 
a distinction  between  leaders  of  the  fioek  and  individuals,  or 

“ Will  to  Power,  § 998. 

“ Werke  (pocket  ed. ),  VII,  486,  § 36;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 132. 


430 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


rather  persons,  proper.  The  leader  (whether  he  actually  leads 
or  simply  gives  the  guiding  thought)  is  after  all  a functionary 
of  the  flock  and  does  not  exist  for  his  own  sake.  However 
different  his  responsibilities  and  duties  are  from  those  of  ordi- 
nary members  of  the  flock — and  they  are  widely  different — he 
is  linked  to  it,  and  his  supreme  duty  is  to  care  for  it  and  make 
himself  its  servant.  In  other  words,  the  law  for  the  whole  is 
still  the  law  for  him — and  to  be  a law  to  himself  is  out  of  the 
question.  But  to  be  an  individual  in  the  great  sense,  a person, 
one  must  take  his  law  from  himself  and  not  from  the  needs 
of  a social  complex  outside  him.  Though,  as  explained  in 
Chapter  XXVI,  the  person  is  born  of  society,  trained  by  it,  and 
never  physically  independent  of  it,  he  is  in  a way  superior  to 
it;  he  has  a quantum  of  being  uniquely  his  own,  which  urges, 
and  indeed  makes  it  imperative  on  him,  to  take  the  law  of  his 
action  from  the  interests  of  that  and  not  merely  from  those  of 
society.^®  The  attitude  may  seem  egoistic,  indeed,  the  very 
height  of  egoism  and  a self-contradictory  egoism  at  that — for 
individuals  are  commonly  supposed  to  have  their  very  being 
in  their  social  relations;  and  yet  there  is  a different  way  of 
looking  at  the  matter.  These  autonomous  individuals,  more 
or  less  dissevered  from  society,  may  be  conceived  of  as  a new 
human  level — the  species  rising  to  a new  altitude  in  them. 
Society  may  not  be  the  flnal  form  of  humanity,  but  rather  a 
preparatory  stage,  a kind  of  school.  It  was  in  some  such 
way  that  Nietzsche  felt.  The  self  or  ego  of  great  individ- 
uals is  to  him  no  mere  personal  interest  (in  the  common 
sense  of  that  term),  but  a human  interest — in  such  a 
qxiantum,  humanity  itself  rises  higher,  i.e.,  out  of  its  social, 
gregarious  stage  into  one  of  sovereign  persons,  each  of  whom 
has  a dominium  as  significant  and  sacred  as  that  of  any 
society.^® 

The  general  character  and  manner  of  life  of  sovereign  indi- 
viduals has  already  been  indicated  (Chapters  XXVI,  XXVII)  ; 
in  the  present  connection  I am  only  concerned  to  mark  off  the 
supreme  examples  of  the  type  from  the  ruling  class  proper. 

See  particularly  a passage  like  Werhe,  XIII,  119-21. 

*“Cf.  the  language  of  Simmel  and  Tienes  quoted  at  the  beginning  of 
note  1 to  Chapter  XXIV. 


THE  IDEAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  SOCIETY 


431 


with  whom  Nietzsche  himself  often  verbally  confounds  them. 
I mean  by  this  that  he  often  fails  to  guard  himself,  not  making 
it  plain  whether  by  “higher  men,”  “lords,”  “supermen,”  he 
means  the  one  class  or  the  other.  His  thought,  however,  be- 
comes unmistakable  in  passages  like  the  following:  “Principal 
point  of  view : that  we  do  not  find  the  task  of  the  higher  species 
to  consist  in  the  guidance  of  the  lower  (as,  e.g.,  Comte  does).”^^ 
‘ ‘ The  simplest  type  of  organism  is  alone  of  a perfect  character, 
all  complicated  ones  are  faulty,  and  innumerable  ones  of  the 
higher  sort  go  to  pieces.  Societies  (Heerden)  and  states  are 
the  highest  known  to  us — very  imperfect  organisms.  At  length 
arises,  behind  the  state,  the  human  individual,  the  highest  and 
most  imperfect  being,  who  as  a rule  goes  to  pieces  and  makes 
the  structure  from  which  he  arises  go  to  pieces.  The  whole 
task  (Pensum)  of  the  impulses  that  form  societies  and  states  is 
concentrated  in  his  inner  being.  He  can  live  alone,  after  his 
own  laws — he  is  no  lawgiver  and  does  not  wish  to  rule.  His 
feeling  of  power  turns  inward.”^*  “It  is  not  a question  of 
going  before  (with  this,  one  is  at  best  shepherd,  i.e.,  the  su- 
preme need  of  the  flock),  but  of  capacity  for  going  on  one’s 
own  account,  for  being  different.”^®  “It  is  absolutely  not 
the  idea  to  take  the  latter  [the  superman  type]  as  lords  of  the 
former  [ordinary  men] ; the  two  species  are  rather  to  exist 
alongside  one  another — as  far  as  possible  separated,  the  one  like 
the  Epicurean  Gods  not  concerning  itself  about  the  other.” 
“The  ‘shepherd’  (Hirt)  in  antithesis  to  the  lord  {Herr) — the 
former  a means  for  the  preservation  of  the  flock,  the  latter  the 
end  for  which  the  flock  exists.”  Nietzsche  thinks  that  con- 
sideration for  individuals  proper  began  in  Greece,  Asia  know- 
ing only  princes  and  lawgivers.  “Morality  for  individuals 
despite  the  community  and  its  statutes  begins  with  Socrates.”^ 
“Probably  never  were  so  many  different  individuals  put  to- 

” Will  to  Poicer,  § 901;  cf.  close  of  § 898. 

Werke,  XII,  113,  § 225. 

Will  to  Power,  § 358;  cf.  § 1009;  also  Twilight  etc.,  i,  §37. 

20  XIV,  262,  § 4. 

^^Will  to  Poioer,  § 902.  Here  “Herr”  has  a meaning  almost  anti- 
thetical to  that  which  it  has  in  the  preceding  quotation.  In  Zarathustra, 
prologue,  § 9,  Zarathustra  is  represented  as  wishing  not  to  be  a shepherd 
of  the  flock,  but  to  draw  many  away  from  the  flock — i.e  , to  make  inde- 
pendent individuals. 

“ Werke,  XI,  232,  § 186. 


432 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


gether  in  so  small  a space  and  allowed  such  emulation  in  per- 
fecting their  peculiarities  [as  there].” 

As  virtually  stated  already,  to  be  independent  in  this  way 
is  something  for  few ; average  natures  are  likely  to  go  to  pieces 
in  attempting  it.^*  It  is  a privilege  of  the  strong;  no  one  had 
better  attempt  it,  unless  he  is  compelled.®  Nietzsche  suggests 
a variety  of  ways  in  which  one  can  test  oneself  in  advance.* 
How  great  the  demands  are  is  shown  by  the  challenges  of 
Zarathustra  to  would-be  higher  men  who  come,  to  him.  Warn- 
ing them  that  they  must  have  a conscience  different  from  the 
common  one  and  that  this  will  involve  inner  distress,  he  says, 
“But  wilt  thou  go  the  way  of  thy  distress,  which  is  the  way  to 
thyself  ? If  so,  show  me  thy  right  and  thy  power  to 
do  so!  Art  thou  a new  power  and  a new  right?  A first 
motion?  A self-revolving  wheel?  Canst  thou  also  force  stars 
to  revolve  around  thee?  Alas,  there  is  so  much  loose  longing 
{Liisternheit)  after  high  things.  . . . There  are  so  many  great 
thoughts  that  act  only  like  bellows,  blowing  one  up  and  making 
one  emptier.  Free  dost  thou  call  thyself?  Thy  ruling  thought 
do  I wish  to  hear  and  not  that  thou  hast  escaped  a yoke.  Art 
thou  one  with  the  right  to  escape  a yoke?  There  is  many  a 
man  who  threw  away  his  last  worth,  when  he  threw  away  his 
servitude.  Free  from  something?  What  is  that  to  Zarathustra? 
But  let  thine  eye  tell  me  clear  and  straight:  free  for  what? 
Canst  thou  give  thyself  thine  evil  and  thy  good,  and  hang  up 
thy  will  over  thee  as  a law?  Canst  thou  be  judge  over  thyself, 
and  avenger  of  thy  law  ? ” ^^  Such  are  the  prerequisites  of  sov- 
ereign individuals.  Men  of  this  type  even  practise  asceticism, 
and  find  a pleasure  in  self-subjugation.  They  are  the  most 
reverend  of  men,  which  does  not  exclude  their  being  also  the 
most  cheerful  and  amiable — indeed,  they  represent  in  a special 
sense  happiness,  beauty,  goodness  on  the  earth.® 

These  supreme  specimens  of  our  kind  are  to  Nietzsche  the 
tiltima  ratio  of  society.  It  is  not  man,  mankind,  that  is  im- 
portant, but  such  as  they.  Mankind  is  experimental  material. 

Ibid.,  XIV,  111,  § 236.  Cf.,  as  to  the  general  emulative  spirit  of 
Greek  civilization,  Zarathustra,  I,  xv. 

Will  to  Power,  § 901. 

" Zarathustra,  I,  xvii. 

The  Antichristian,  § 57. 


THE  IDEAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  SOCIETY 


433 


with  an  immense  surplusage  of  failure,  a field  of  ruins.®  A 
people  is  nature’s  roundabout  way  of  getting  six  or  seven  great 
men.^  So  little  equality  is  there  between  men  that  a single 
individual  may  on  occasion  justify  the  existence  of  whole  mil- 
lenniums— one  full,  rich,  great,  whole  man  may  complement 
innumerable  fractional  men.^®  “Not  man,  but  superman  is  the 
goal.”^®  And  when  the  higher  type  appear,  they  have  feelings 
about  themselves  that  would  be  abnormal  in  ordinary  men — 
they  revere  themselves,  and  this  not  because  of  any  actions 
they  may  perform  that  prove  them  great,  but  because  of  what 
they  are.*^  Nietzsche  is  aware  that  the  attitude  of  reverence 
for  oneself  is  a perilous  one,  but  allowing  for  the  possibility  of 
aberration  in  individual  cases,  he  thinks  that  it  may  be  truly 
taken,  and  that  then  aberration  consists  in  giving  it  up.  It  is 
by  this  token  that  a true  aristocracy  is  known.  An  aristocracy, 
he  says,  when  it  reaches  any  perfection,  looks  upon  itself  not 
as  a function,  but  as  the  meaning  and  highest  justification  of 
royalty  or  the  commonwealth,  something  then  for  which  the 
governing  and  lower  classes  may  well  labor  and  sacrifice,  some- 
thing to  which  with  perfect  seemliness  they  may  give  extraor- 
dinary privileges  and  power.  Nothing  is  more  contrary  to  our 
democratic  conceptions,  and  yet  in  no  connection  is  Nietzsche 
more  unflinching.  To  him  it  is  degeneration,  corruption  (some- 
thing he  defines  as  anarchy  in  the  instincts  lying  at  the  founda- 
tion of  life),  when,  for  example,  an  aristocracy  like  that  of 
France  at  the  beginning  of  the  Eevolution  throws  away  its 
privileges  and  sacrifices  itself  to  extravagances  of  its  moral 
feeling — though  in  this  particular  case,  the  corruption  had  been 
going  on  for  centuries,  leading  the  nobles  as  it  had  to  give  up 
step  by  step  their  lordly  prerogatives  and  to  lower  themselves 
to  a function  of  royalty  (finally,  indeed,  to  a mere  ornament 
and  decoration  of  it).  A sound  aristocracy  cannot  act  in  this 
way,  and  looks  at  itself  as  already  indicated.  Its  ground 
feeling  is  that  society  does  not  exist  for  its  own  sake,  but  as 
a foundation  and  scaffolding,  on  which  a higher  species  of 
being  may  arise — like  those  climbing  plants  in  Java,  the  Sipo 
Matador,  which  clamber  about  an  oak  tree,  and  at  last,  high 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 126. 

lUd.,  § 1001. 


Will  to  Power,  § 997. 


43-1 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


above  it,  but  supported  by  it,  spread  out  to  the  sun  their  crown 
and  display  their  happiness.*  Strange  and  offensive  as  this 
sounds  to  us,  it  is  only  in  keeping  with  the  tragic  view  of  the 
constitution  of  the  world,  which  Nietzsche,  following  Schopen- 
hauer, had  held  from  almost  the  beginning  of  his  career.  Our 
ordinary  ideas  (at  least  our  democratic  ideas)  of  right  and 
justice  are  not  the  pattern  after  which  the  world  is  made, 
nor  are  they  the  standard  in  accordance  with  which  society 
must  be  constituted,  if  it  is  to  yield  the  consummate  fruit 
which  Nietzsche  desired.  Harm  and  sacrifice  are  necessities  as 
deep  as  the  finiteness  of  the  world  and  of  its  composite  forces — 
if  the  world  were  infinite,  all  might  be  different.  Higher 
things  live  off  lower  things,  because  it  is  the  only  way  in  which 
they  can  live  at  all — there  is  no  infinite  storehouse  of  power 
on  which  the  higher  can  directly  draw. 

Nietzsche  uses  the  word  “castes,”  but  we  must  not  think 
of  unbreakable  lines  of  social  cleavage.  His  earlier  view  of 
movement  up  and  down  the  social  scale  is  not  gainsaid.^”  Rather 
have  we  already  found  him  in  this  last  period  calling  peasant 
blood  the  best  there  is  in  Germany  (i.e.,  having  most  promise 
of  real  aristocracy),®^  and  saying  that  the  critical  question  is  not 
whence  one  comes,  but  whither  one  goes.®®  He  even  takes  a 
certain  satisfaction  in  the  democratic  leveling  process  that  has 
been  going  on,  for  now  that  the  struggle  between  classes  is 
over,  an  order  of  rank  based  on  individual  merit  can  arise.®® 
How  men  may  come  up  from  lower  walks  in  life,  he  finds  illus- 
trated notably  in  the  history  of  religions.®^  It  is  true  that 
training  or  breeding  {ZucJitung)  is  necessary,  and  that  there 
must  be  suitable  material  to  start  with,  but  this  material  is  not 
confined  within  the  limits  of  any  one  historic  class — a real 
aristocracy  ever  takes  new  elements  into  itself.®®  Just  how  an 
aristocracy  can  maintain  itself  on  a shifting,  more  or  less  indi- 
vidualistic basis  like  this  is  not  explained,  and  Professor  Ziegler 
thinks  that  Nietzsche  is  inconsistent,  now  progressive  and  now 

Cf.  Human,  etc.,  § 439. 

Werke,  XIII,  347,  § 859;  cf.  note  c to  Chapter  XXVII. 

Zdrathustra,  III,  xii,  § 12. 

Werke  (pocket  ed.),  VII,  485-6,  §36. 

^'Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 61. 

W'erke,  XIV,  226,  § 457. 


THE  IDEAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  SOCIETY  435 


reactionary ; “ but  bis  ideal,  whatever  may  be  the  practical 
difficulties  of  turning  it  into  a working  program,  is  plain — a 
superior,  and  more  or  less  self-perpetuating  class  of  men  on 
the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other,  free  entrance  to  it  and  descent 
from  it. 

Ill 

And  now  as  to  the  place  and  function  of  the  third  class — 
the  great  working  mass.  Nietzsche  sometimes  speaks  contemptu- 
ously of  the  average  man,  but  he  does  so  relatively,  not  abso- 
lutely, and  perhaps  the  language  would  never  have  been  used 
save  in  reaction  against  the  excessive  laudation  of  the  common 
man  and  his  virtues  which  is  characteristic  of  a democratic 
age.^  However  this  may  be,  he  betrays  here  and  there  full 
appreciation  of  the  services  of  the  common  man,  and  sometimes 
gives  set  expression  to  it — enough  so  to  lead  us  to  suspect  that, 
if  he  had  lived  to  complete  the  work  on  which  he  was  bent  in 
his  later  years,  he  would  have  supplemented  his  doctrine  of 
the  higher  man,  which  was  doubtless  his  main  concern,  with 
some  adequate  exposition  of  the  place  and  functions  of  the 
average  worker  in  society.''  He  particularly  says  that  this  third 
class,  equally  with  the  first  and  second,  has  its  field  of  labor 
and  its  peculiar  feeling  of  perfection  and  mastership.^^  Work 
well  done,  of  whatever  kind,  always  has  his  admiration.  A good 
hand-worker  or  scholar  who  has  pride  in  his  art  and  looks  out 
on  life  with  easy  contentment  is  a pleasing  sight  to  him,  while 
he  finds  it  pitiable  when  a shoemaker  or  schoolmaster  gives  us 
to  understand  with  a suffering  mien  that  he  really  was  born 
for  something  better.  “There  is  absolutely  nothing  better  than 
the  good ! and  that  means  having  some  kind  of  proficiency  and 
creating  from  it  virtu  in  the  Italian  Renaissance  sense.  ’ ’ ^ In- 
dustry, order,  moderation,  settled  convictions — these  bring  the 
average  man  to  his  type  of  “perfection.” Repeatedly  does 
Nietzsche  warn  against  contempt  for  him.  “Let  us  not  under- 
value the  prerogatives  (Vorrechte)  of  the  average”  [he  had 
just  been  saying  that  every  class  had  its  prerogative].  “It 

Op.  cit.,  pp.  143-4;  cf.  note  d to  Chapter  XXVII. 

The  Antichristian,  § 57. 

' Will  to  Power,  § 75. 

^^Ibid.,  §901. 


436 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


would  be  absolutely  unworthy  a deeper  mind  to  consider  medi- 
ocrity in  itself  an  objection.  It  is  the  first  indispensable  re- 
quirement in  order  that  there  may  be  exceptions:  a high 
culture  is  conditioned  by  it.”^®  “Hatred  against  mediocrity 
is  unworthy  a philosopher:  it  almost  raises  the  question  as  to 
his  ‘right  to,  philosophy.’  Just  because  he  is  the  exception,  he 
has  to  protect  the  rule  and  to  give  all  average  people  good 
heart. Nietzsche  even  uses  the  word  “duty”  in  this  con- 
nection: “when  an  exceptional  man  treats  one  of  the  average 
type  with  tenderer  hands  than  he  does  himself  and  his  own 
kind,  this  is  not  mere  courtesy  of  the  heart — it  is  simply  his 
duty.”^i  His  appreciation  goes  to  what  are  commonly  re- 
garded as  the  lower  as  well  as  to  the  upper  strata  of  this  third 
social  class — indeed,  he  once  hazards  the  conjecture  that  more 
relative  superiority  of  taste  and  tact  for  reverence  may  be 
found  “among  the  lower  ranks  of  the  people,  especially  among 
peasants,  than  among  the  newspaper-reading  half-world  of  in- 
tellect, the  educated.” 

In  one  way  the  interests  of  the  great  working  mass  come 
first,  in  his  judgment.  The  group  is  prior  to  the  independent 
individual  in  point  of  time  (as  we  have  already  seen),^  and 
also,  in  a sense,  of  importance.  The  labors  of  the  mass  who 
make  up  its  bulk  are  the  sine  qua  non  for  the  higher  man — it  is 
from  their  “surplus  labor”  that  he  lives — but  he  is  not  a sine 
qua  non  for  them,  and  in  certain  circumstances  he  may  be  a 
luxury,  a waste.^®  To  secure  their  existence  and  well-being  is 
then  the  first  social  requirement. 

In  this  connection  I may  mention  a curious  set  of  reflec- 
tions to  which  Nietzsche  is  led.  We  have  already  seen  his  atti- 
tude to  modern — I might  say,  Christian — civilization.  It  has 
turned  normal  or  at  least  ancient  valuations  upside  down — has 
exalted  the  low  and  pulled  down  the  high,  has  made  the  common 
man  of  supreme  importance  and  waged  war  against  whatever 
is  rare,  independent,  privileged,  powerful  (save  as  it  serves 
the  common  man).  “We  do  not  want  you  apart,  superior,  in 
a sphere  of  your  own,  we  want  you  to  serve  us” — such  is  the 

The  Antichristian,  §57.  '’Beyond  Oood  and  Evil.  § 263. 

’’Will  to  Power,  § 893.  P.  216;  cf.  Werke,  XIII,  110-4. 

The  Antichristian,  § 57.  “ Will  to  Power,  § 886. 


THE  IDEAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  SOCIETY 


4.37 


democratic  (more  fundamentally  speaking,  Christian,  more 
fundamentally  still,  social  or  herd)  instinct.  For  there  is  a 
tendency  throughout  history  (and  quite  independently  of 
Christianity)  of  this  sort.  The  weak,  so  far  as  they  are  clever — 
and  none  may  be  cleverer — instinctively  combine  to  make  them- 
selves masters  of  the  strong;  if  the  strong  man  is  not  their 
shepherd,  they  have  no  use  for  him.  This  is  an  incident  in 
the  struggle  for  existence  to  which  the  school  of  Darwin  has 
not  ordinarily  paid  much  attention.  Instead  of  there  being 
merely  a tendency  to  the  survival  of  the  strong  in  the  unhin- 
dered struggle  for  existence,  there  is  so  far  a tendency  to  the 
survival  of  the  weak,  according  to  the  laws  of  natural  selection 
itself.™  It  might  even  be  contended  that  there  is  objective 
warrant  in  this  way  for  the  idea  of  the  Jewish  prophets  that 
God  (the  supreme  power  in  nature)  was  on  the  side  of  the 
humble  and  poor.^  Nietzsche  faced  the  paradox.  Nature’s 
ways  were  no  model  to  him,  still  he  had  to  pay  attention  to 
them — his  motto,  amor  fati,  itself  obliged  him  to.  Commenting 
on  the  fact  that  the  strong  are  weak,  when  organized  herd- 
instincts,  superior  numbers  are  against  them,  he  says  that  there 
is  perhaps  nothing  in  the  world  more  interesting  than  this 
unwished-for  spectacle.^^  He  has  reflections  like  the  following: 
Is  this  victory  of  the  weak  perhaps  only  a retarding  of  the 
tempo  in  the  total  movement  of  life,  a protective  measure 
against  something  still  worse?  May  it  not  be  a greater  guar- 
antee of  life,  in  the  long  run?  Suppose  that  the  strong  became 
master  in  every  respect,  even  in  fixing  valuations,  think  of  the 
consequences.  If  the  weak  looked  on  sickness,  suffering,  sacrifice 
as  the  strong  do,  they  would  despise  themselves — would  seek 
to  slink  out  of  sight  and  extinguish  themselves.  Would  that  be 
desirable?  Should  we  really  like  a world  in  which  qualities 
developed  by  the  weak,  fineness,  considerateness,  spirituality, 
suppleness,  were  lacking?^®  If  not,  we  cannot  set  down  the  vic- 
tory of  the  mass  and  their  valuations  as  antibiological.  We 
must  rather  seek  to  explain  it  as  somehow  in  life’s  interest,  as 

Nietzsche  finds  the  “cruelty  of  nature”  not  where  it  is  commonly 
supposed  to  be:  “she  is  cruel  to  her  fortunate  children  {Gliickskinder) , 
she  spares  and  protects  les  humbles”  (ibid.,  § 685). 

" Ibid.,  § 685. 

Ibid.,  § 401. 


438 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


part  of  the  method  for  maintaining  the  human  type — possibly 
without  it  man  would  no  longer  exist.^®  The  growth  of  a species’ 
power  may  be  less  guaranteed  by  the  preponderance  of  its 
favored  offspring,  its  strong  ones,  than  by  the  preponderance 
of  the  average  and  lower  types — the  latter  having  greater  fruit- 
fulness and  permanence,  while  with  the  former  danger  in- 
creases.®” Must  we  admit  perhaps  that  the  raising  of  the  type 
is  fateful  for  the  species?  History  often  shows  us  strong  races 
decimating  one  another.  At  least  we  must  own  that  these 
higher  individuals  are  expensive.  We  really  stand  before  a 
problem  of  economy.  Never  does  Nietzsche  question  that  great 
individuals  are  the  ultima  ratio  of  society,  that  it  would  be 
better  for  the  race  to  produce  them  and  disappear,  than  not 
to  produce  them  and  live  on  indefinitely ; and  yet  he  saw  that, 
at  a given  moment  race-permanence  might  be  more  important 
than  anything  else,  since  thereby  a large  number  of  great  indi- 
viduals would  ultimately  be  made  possible.®^ 

Accordingly  we  have  a kind  of  apology  in  Nietzsche’s  latest 
writings  for  the  present  supremacy  of  the  mass  and  their  valua- 
tions— at  least  the  temporary  supremacy.  “Temporary  pre- 
ponderance of  the  social  valuations,  conceivable  and  useful:  it 
is  a question  of  producing  a substructure,  on  which  a stronger 
race  will  be  possible  at  last.”®^  “Everywhere,  where  the  aver- 
age qualities,  on  which  the  continuance  of  a species  depends, 
are  of  prime  moment,  being  a person  would  be  a waste,  a luxury, 
and  wishing  for  persons  has  absolutely  no  sense.”®®  “The 
process  of  making  man  smaller  which  is  going  on  under  demo- 
cratic inspiration  must  long  be  the  sole  aim,  since  a broad 
foundation  has  first  to  be  laid,  on  which  a stronger  type  of  man 
can  stand.””  The  point  is  “to  increase  the  sum  of  force, 
despite  the  temporary  decline  of  the  individual:  to  establish  a 
new  level ; to  find  a method  for  storing  up  forces,  so  as  to  keep 
small  results  instead  of  wasting  them ; meanwhile  to  subjugate 
devastating  nature  and  make  it  a tool  of  the  future  economy; 
to  preserve  the  weak,  since  an  immense  amount  of  small  work 
has  to  be  done;  to  preserve  a sentiment,  by  which  existence  is 

Ihid.,  § 903;  cf.  Corner,  op.  cit.,  p.  186. 

Will  to  Power,  § 886. 

Ibid.,  § 890., 


*Uhid.,  § 864. 
'>»  Ibid.,  § 685. 
“76id.,  § 864. 


THE  IDEAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  SOCIETY  439 


still  possible  to  the  weak  and  suffering;  to  implant  solidarity 
as  an  instinct  as  against  the  instincts  of  fear  and  servility:  to 
fight  with  accident,  also  with  the  accident  of  the  ‘great  man.’  ” ® 
These  last  words  show,  I may  add,  that  Nietzsche  is  still  not 
without  his  humanitarian  side.  He  really  wishes  as  wide  a 
happiness  as  is  possible,  consistently  with  a great  aim.  We  have 
already  found  him  citing  an  ancient  counsel,  “When  thou  culti- 
vatest  the  land,  do  it  with  a plow,  so  that  the  bird  and  the  wolf 
who  follow  after  may  receive  of  thee  and  all  creatures  profit 
by  thee,”  and  calling  it  a “generous  and  charitable”  one.“ 
Zarathustra ’s  instinct  is  to  love  “all  that  lives”  (whatever 
danger  may  lie  in  doing  so),  and  tears  come  to  his  eyes  as  he 
watches  the  setting  sun  pouring  its  golden  light  on  the  sea, 
so  that  even  the  poorest  fisherman  rows  with  golden  oars.®^ 
Nietzsche  would  like  every  man  to  have  a value,  and  if  there 
are  those  who  have  none  to  their  families  or  the  community,  he 
wants  us  to  give  them  a value,  to  make  them  feel  that  somehow 
they  are  useful — for  example,  the  sick  man  as  a means  of  ex- 
tending knowledge,  the  criminal  as  a scarecrow,  the  vicious  as 
opportunities  [for  experiment?]  and  so  on.®®  He  wishes  none 
thrown  utterly  to  the  void. 

It  is  Nietzsche’s  attitude  to  that  part  of  the  third  class 
whom  we  are  accustomed  to  call  the  “workers”  that  is  most 
misunderstood,  and  it  may  be  well  to  give  special  attention  to 
it.  He  is  thought  not  only  to  despise  them,  but  to  favor  de- 
spoiling them,  keeping  them  miserable  and  poor.  Now  it  is  true 
that  he  does  not  wish  them,  any  more  than  the  employing  class, 
to  rule  in  society,  but  how  far  he  is  from  wishing,  or  finding 
necessary,  a squalid  life  for  them,  particularly  in  an  age  of 
mechanical  inventions  like  the  present  one,  will  appear  in  pas- 
sages I shall  now  quote  or  refer  to.  In  the  first  place,  he  says 
that  comfort  is  to  be  created  for  them,  that  to  the  lowest  is  to 
be  given  the  expectation  of  happiness  {Anwartschaft  auf 
Oliick).^^  Once  he  ventures  on  an  extraordinary  assertion: 

Ibid.,  § 895;  cf.  WerJce,  XIII,  120,  § 265  {“  keine  Servilitat ! ”) . 

Daion  of  Day,  § 202. 

^’’Zarathustra,  III,  i;  xii,  §3. 

" Werke,  XIII,  201,  § 444.  As  to  the  criminal,  degenerate,  and  evil, 
cf.  Werke,  XII,  368,  § 718. 

Werke,  XII,  411;  Werke  (pocket  ed.),  VII,  486,  §36. 


440 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


“The  laborers  should  (sollen)  some  day  live  as  the  bourgeois 
now  do.”®“  It  is  a forecast  that  can  have  sense  only  as  great 
social  changes  are  supposed  to  have  taken  place,  notably  as 
mechanical  inventions  have  been  allowed  to  work  a result  that 
they  have  never  had  under  our  regime  of  laisser  faire,  as  John 
Stuart  Mill  long  ago  confessed.  He  drops  the  significant  re- 
mark that  there  is  hard  coarse  work  that  some  men  must  be 
on  hand  to  do,  so  long  as  machines  cannot  do  it  in  their  stead, 
and  he  observes  that  the  tendency  of  civilization  is  to  produce 
the  machines : ‘ ‘ ever  less  physical  force  is  necessary ; wisely  we 
let  machines  work,  man  becoming  stronger  and  more  spirit- 
ual. ” It  may  be  supposed  too  that  the  struggles  of  the  la- 
borers themselves  will  have  contributed  to  the  result,  and  within 
limits  Nietzsche  can  hardly  have  failed  to  justify  such 
struggles — at  least  so  long  as  the  present  regime  of  laisser 
faire  lasts ; he  speaks  once  of  revolt  as  the  nobility  of 
the  slave.“  He  has  this  to  say  about  exploitation:  “What  is  it 
that  we  find  revolting,  when  an  individual  man  exploits  others 
for  his  own  purposes?  The  presupposition  is  that  he  is  not  of 
sufficient  value.  If,  however,  we  suppose  him  to  be  valuable 
enough  (e.g.,  as  a prince),  the  exploitation  is  endured  and  gives 
a kind  of  happiness  (cf.  “submission  to  God”).  We  protect 
ourselves  against  exploitation  by  lower  beings  than  we  our- 
selves are.  So  I protect  myself  against  the  present-day  state, 
culture  and  so  forth. Still  more  strongly:  “When  an  in- 
ferior man  takes  his  foolish  existence,  his  cattle-like  stupid 
happiness  as  an  end,  he  makes  the  onlooker  indignant;  and 
when  he  goes  so  far  as  to  oppress  and  use  up  other  men  for 
ends  of  his  own,  he  should  be  struck  dead  like  a poisonous 
gy_>J65  ^fter  such  passages  we  can  hardly  imagine  Nietzsche 
sanctioning  industrial  exploitation  as  it  often  exists  today,  or 

Will  to  Power,  § 764. 

Werke,  XI,  143  (the  italics  are  mine). 

Ihid.,  XIV,  97,  § 207.  He  even  says  that  in  the  next  [our]  cen- 
tury mankind  will  have  won,  by  the  conquest  of  nature,  more  power  than 
it  can  use,  and  suggests,  among  other  changes,  that  economic  relations 
may  then  be  ordered  without  the  usual  anxiety  about  life  and  death 
{ibid.,  XI,  376-7,  § 572). 

Zarathustra,  I,  x. 

Werke,  XIV,  61,  § 118. 

Ibid.,  XIV,  61-2,  § 119. 


THE  IDEAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  SOCIETY 


441' 


condemning  of  necessity  so  modest  a thing  as  a “ strike.  ” At 

the  same  time  he  has  an  ideal  for  the  laborer  that  may  seem 
an  extravagance — at  least  it  is  not  one  frequently  illustrated  to 
him  by  his  employer,  though  in  a dilferent  and  better  civiliza- 
tion it  might  hold  for  employer  and  workingman  alike.  At 
present  he  finds  men  in  civilized  lands  much  the  same  in  one 
respect : they  work  for  the  sake  of  the  reward.  An  occupation 
is  a means  to  them,  not  an  end,  so  that  they  are  not  fine  in 
choosing  one,  provided  it  yields  a rich  return:  individuals  are 
rare  who  must  do  just  one  kind  of  work  and  would  rather 
perish  than  labor  at  something  in  which  they  have  no  pleasure.®^ 
He  indicates  his  ideal  in  the  following:  “Laborers  [and  he 
would  have  said  the  same,  I think,  of  all  the  subdivisions  of 
his  third  class,  employers  and  professional  men  included] 
should  learn  to  feel  like  soldiers.  An  honorarium,  a salary,  but 
no  pay ! No  proportion  between  payment  and  work  per- 
formed ! But  each  kind  of  individual  to  he  so  placed,  that  he 
can  render  the  highest  that  is  within  his  reach.”®® 

And  this  suggestion  of  higher  than  egoistic  ideals  for  the 
working  classes  goes  along  with  the  scheme  of  an  ordered 
society  in  general.  What  Herbert  Spencer  called  the  “coming 
slavery”  is  in  some  respects  what  Nietzsche  regarded  as  the. 
normal  state  for  the  third  social  class.  As  unreasonable  as  it 
would  be  for  single  members  of  man’s  physical  organism  to  seek 
their  own  aggrandizement,  to  be  bent  on  being  their  own  mas- 
ters and  becoming  something  for  themselves,  so  pari  passu  for 
the  lower  orders  of  society.  They  are  necessary,  they  should 
prosper,  but  they  should  not  rule.  Ruling  belongs  to  the  higher 
spheres  in  the  individual  organism,  and  to  the  first  and  second 
of  Nietzsche’s  classes  in  society.  It  is  absolutely  necessary  that 
the  highest  intelligence  give  direction  to  economic  activity.®® 
Here  is  the  reason  for  his  opposition  to  democracy  in  any  form. 

As  matter  of  fact  he  contemplates  the  possibility  that  an 
oppressed  and  enslaved  population  might  rise  and  rule  and  lay  the 
foundations  of  a new  culture  {WerJce,  XIV,  69-70).  I do  not  remember 
any  development  of  this  thought,  though  perhaps  Werke,  XIII,  212-3, 
§ 497,  has  something  similar  in  view.  It  is  a different  thought  from  that 
of  the  migration  of  the  workingmen  contemplated  in  Baton  of  Day,  § 206 
(see  ante,  p.  135) . 

Joyful  Science,  §42. 

Will  to  Power,  § 763. 

Werke,  XII,  204,  § 435. 


442 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


Universal  sulfrage  means  the  rule  of  lower  kinds  of  men — it 
is  a system  by  which  they  become  law  for  the  higher.™  It  was 
introduced  as  a makeshift,  a temporary  measure,  and  Nietzsche 
hopes  that  it  will  not  be  allowed  to  strike  deeper  root.^*  It 
belongs  to  an  intervening  period  between  the  decay  of  old  ruling 
powers  and  the  advent  of  new  ones  more  adequate  to  their 
task.  Nietzsche  would  not  even  have  the  people  armed — the  use 
of  physical  force  should  be  strictly  under  higher  control.™  Nor 
would  he  have  them  “educated” — as  this  word  is  often  under- 
stood. If  the  requirements  and  refined  tastes  of  higher  culture 
penetrate  the  working  class,  they  will  not  be  able  to  do  their 
work  without  proportionally,  and  more  than  proportionally, 
suffering.™  As  I understand  him,  he  does  not  mean  that  they 
shall  have  no  intellectual  opportunities — indeed,  he  wishes  them 
to  become  “the  most  intelligent  and  pliant  instrument  possible” 
for  social  ends,™  and  how  is  this  possible  without  training  of 
some  kind  ? But  the  education  they  receive  need  not  be  of  the 
sort,  nor  conducted  in  the  spirit  common  in  democratic  coun- 
tries, where  young  people  are  liable  to  have  ambitions  excited 
for  almost  any  career  except  one  for  which  they  are  really 
fitted.  Finding  out  what  an  individual  has  capacity  for  is 
difficult — it  is  perhaps  ike  educational  problem  in  many  cases, 
and  I discover  nothing  in  Nietzsche’s  teaching,  which  is  incon- 
sistent with  liberal  experimentation  in  that  direction.  Perhaps 
our  ordinary  schools — aside  from  communicating  certain  ele- 
mentary forms  of  knowledge — would  be  better  taken  as  experi- 
ment-stations than  anything  else. 

What  has  doubtless  contributed  to  the  misunderstanding  of 
Nietzsche’s  attitude  to  the  working  class  is  his  way  of  referring 
to  them  as  slaves.  Some  imagine  that  he  wished  to  turn  them 
into  slaves.  It  would  be  nearer  the  truth  to  say  that  he  finds 
them  so  already,  and  is  simply  not  unwilling,  as  many  are,  to 
use  the  plain  offensive  term.  A slave  to  him  is  any  one  who  is 
not  his  own  end,  but  does  the  will  of  another.  I have  already 
commented  on  his  broad  use  of  the  term.™  “ He  speaks  even  of 
“princes,  business-men,  officials,  farmers,  soldiers”  as  slaves, 

Will  to  Power,  §§  861-2.  ■'*  Werke,  XI,  143. 

” Werke,  XIII,  349,  § 864.  ” Will  to  Forcer,  § 660. 

So  I interpret  Will  to  Power,  § 754.  Pp.  72,  127,  249-50. 


THE  IDEAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  SOCIETY 


443 


his  thought  being  that  they  are  all  social  functionaries,  i.e., 
serve  something  outside  them,  rather  than  themselves.™  He 
calls  the  French  Revolution  the  “last  great  slave-insurrection” 
[the  beginning  of  it],^^  and  the  French  Revolution  was  the 
uprising  of  the  bourgeois  rather  than  the  working  class.  In 
the  intellectual  world  itself,  he  finds  slaves  and  masters.  The 
scholar,  the  purely  scientific  and  objective  man,  who  simply 
mirrors  things  and  events,  is  a valuable  tool,  but  a tool  all  the 
same,  “a  bit  of  a slave,”  though  of  a sublimated  kind — and 
belongs  in  the  hands  of  the  masters  in  the  intellectual  realm,, 
the  philosophers.™  Nietzsche  even  carries  the  distinction  into 
the  realm  of  morality.  “He  who  cannot  make  himself  an  end, 
or  in  general  project  ends  of  himself,  gives  honor  to  an  unego- 
istic  morality — instinctively”:  he  serves  others,  takes  as  his 
rules  common  rules — that  is,  is  so  far  a slave,  though  “the  ideal 
slave,”™  What  we  particularly  think  of  when  we  speak  of  a 
“good  man”  today  is  a combination  of  qualities  fitting  to  the 
slave.  “Modest,  industrious,  benevolent,  frugal — so  you  wish 
man,  the  good  man,  to  be  ? But  such  an  one  appears  to  me  only 
the  ideal  slave,  the  slave  of  the  future.”  “ One  might  say  then 
that  if  workingmen  are  slaves,  they  are  in  what  would  ordi- 
narily be  called  good  company.  There  is  of  course  always  a 
shade  of  contempt  in  Nietzsche’s  use  of  the  term,  but  it  is  from 
a very  lofty  standpoint — one  to  which  only  those  are  “free” 
who  have  their  reason  for  being  in  themselves  and  represent 
the  summits  of  humanity,  the  rest  doing  their  best  as  they 
“serve”  them,  above  all,  as  they  will  to  serve  them,  and  in  so 
willing  rob  their  servitude  of  half  or  all  its  baseness.®^  For  in 
one  way  Nietzsche  saw  nothing  reproachful  in  slavery,  even  of 

Werke,  XII,  205,  § 439. 

’’’’ Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §46. 

”76id.,  § 207;  cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 358. 

Will  to  Power,  § 358. 

Ihid.,  § 356.  Nietzsche  finds  slavery  everywhere  visible,  even 
though  unconfessed,  and  adds  that  it  is  not  to  be  extirpated,  being  neces- 
sary; we  have  only  to  see  that  there  are  those  worthy  to  receive  its 
benefits,  so  that  this  vast  mass  of  politico-commercial  forces  is  not  used 
up  in  vain  (Werke,  XII,  203,  § 433;  cf.  Human,  etc.,  § 585). 

“ Either  society,  or  the  higher  man,  who  is  the  ultima  ratio  of 
society,  may  be  the  object  of  the  service;  though  Nietzsche  is  of  the 
opinion  that  when  the  higher  man  is  not  in  evidence,  or  at  least  in 
prospect,  life,  and  the  service,  too,  are  on  little  more  than  an  animal 
level. 


444 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


a literal  sort.  In  an  early  fragment  he  remarks  that  neither 
primitive  Christianity  nor  the  ancient  Germans  regarded  it  in 
this  light.  He  draws  a picture  of  the  mediaeval  bondsman 
{Horigen)  standing  in  a variety  of  strong  and  delicate  relations 
both  of  law  and  custom  to  the  man  above  him,  and  says  rather 
that  he  looks  reproachfully  on  us ! ° 

Another  contributory  factor  to  the  misunderstanding  is  the 
failure  to  note  the  distinction  between  the  workers  or  third 
class  generally  and  the  diseased  and  decadent,  the  severe  lan- 
guage against  the  latter  which  Nietzsche  sometimes  uses  being 
taken  to  cover  all  who  do  not  belong  to  the  higher  types.  So 
Professor  Dorner  appears  to  construe  Nietzsche.®^  But  it  is  a 
misconstruction,  though  one  for  which  Nietzsche  is  partly  re- 
sponsible, as  he  sometimes  fails  to  make  himself  clear.®*  Each 
of  his  social  classes  has  its  own  sphere  of  life  and  activity,  and 
its  own  type  of  mastery.  The  third  class  is  not  as  strong  as  the 
upper  classes,  but  it  is  not  weak  in  any  such  sense  as  would 
make  its  elimination  desirable.  Again  and  again  does  Nietzsche 
distinguish  between  the  mass,  the  average,  as  such,  and  the 
failures,  the  decadents.®®  Indeed,  decadence  is  not  something 
peculiar  to  the  lower  strata  of  society;  the  decadence  of  old- 
time  aristocracies  is  one  of  the  conspicuous  facts  of  modern 
times.  And  even  decadence,  whenever  and  wherever  it  arises, 
Nietzsche  would  treat  with  as  little  inhumanity  as  possible — 
as  we  have  already  seen.  But  the  average  normal  workers  in 
society  are  another  quantity  altogether;  they  are  the  broad 
foundation  of  the  whole  social  edifice — there  could  be  no  crown 
or  apex  were  they  not  in  their  place  and  doing  their  indispensa- 
ble work.P 


IV 

And  now  as  to  the  organic  relations  of  the  three  classes, 
and  the  charge  of  “social  dualism.”  Undoubtedly  Nietzsche 
sometimes  uses  strong  language  in  the  latter  direction  (he  rarely 

Werke,  IX,  153-4. 

Op.  cit.,  p.  149. 

For  example,  in  Will  to  Power,  §§  401,  461. 

" Observe  the  implications  of  the  classifications  in  Will  to  Power, 
§§  274,  400,  685. 


THE  IDEAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  SOCIETY 


445 


states  more  than  one  side  of  a truth  at  a time,  an  exception 
being  the  classic  §57  of  The  Antichristian),  and  yet,  if  we 
attend  carefully,  we  can  make  out  a really  organic  view,  at 
least  an  approach  to  one,  however  unusual  in  character. 

The  difficulties  arise  as  we  consider  what  is  said,  first,  of  the 
lower  class;  second,  of  the  higher  classes. 

(1)  Dr.  Dolson  thinks  that  there  is  with  him  no  suggestion 
of  a social  ideal,  adding,  “the  weak  can  hardly  be  said  to  have 
an  end.”  Professor  R.  H.  Griitzmacher,  a Leipzig  theologian, 
speaks  of  his  “social,  more  correctly  speaking,  unsocial 
thoughts.  One  of  the  best  ideas  of  our  day,  the  social,  has  not 
dawned  on  him.”®^  The  well-known  Konigsberg  philosopher 
and  theologian.  Professor  Dorner,  finds  his  conception  contra- 
dictory in  that  while  on  the  one  hand  masters  and  slaves  are 
determined  for  one  another,  on  the  other  they  are  hostile  to 
one  another.®®  So  M.  Paguet  speaks  of  his  creating  an  “abyss” 
between  the  two  classes,  digging  a ditch  between  them ; ®®  and 
Professor  Hoffding  uses  the  phrase  “social  dualism,”  though 
he  admits  that  Nietzsche  ultimately  transcended  such  a view, 
or  rather  “took  it  back.”®®  That  there  is  ground  for  this 
criticism  is  indisputable ; the  only  question  is,  how  much 
ground,  and  what  is  the  real  final  conclusion  to  be  drawn  ? 

First,  is  it  true  that  in  Nietzsche’s  view  the  weak  can  hardly 
be  said  to  have  an  end— that  the  master  class  and  great  indi- 
viduals alone  have  a reason  for  being?  As  I read  him,  this  is 
a fundamental  misconception.  Great  men  are  the  goal,  but 
they  can  only  be  reached  by  a long-continuing  social  process — 
one  might  say  world-process — and  all  the  steps  and  incidents  in 
it  acquire  significance  and  justification  when  taken  in  connec- 
tion with  the  great  result.  The  meaninglessness  of  things  in 
themselves,  i.e.,  apart  from  a purpose  to  which  they  may  be 
put,  was  what  distressed  Nietzsche — a meaningless  world  was 
abhorrent  to  him.  Yet  disenchanted  of  the  God-idea  as  he  had 

Op.  cit.,  p.  98. 

” Nietzsche.  Bin  akademisches  PuMikum,  p.  118. 

Op  cit.,  p.  149. 

cit.,  pp.  332,  334. 

°°  Op.  cit.,  p.  175. 

Extreme  expressions  of  contempt  for  the  common  mass  are  to  be 
found  in  Joyful  Science,  § 377;  Zarathustra,  II,  vi;  Beyond  Qood  a/nd 
Evil,  § 30;  Will  to  Power,  § 761. 


446 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


early  come  to  be,  he  was  face  to  face  with  such  a possibility,  and 
it  was  one  reason  for  his  pessimism.  But  ever  the  question 
surged,  could  not  things  be  given  a meaning — might  not  the 
world  and  human  society  be  so  ordered  and  arranged  that 
things,  all  things,  would  move  towards  an  end,  and  a great, 
semi-divine  one?  From  this  point  of  view  the  more  or  less 
chaotic  character  that  cleaves  to  things  ^ ceased  to  be  an  objec- 
tion to  him — it  became  an  occasion  for  the  master-hand  and 
mind  of  man.  Amor  fati  was  his  motto,  but  his  deeper  feeling 
was  ever  amor  dei  (or  rather  deorum).  We  do  not  fathom  him 
till  we  reach  this  undercurrent  of  his  thought  and  aspiration. 
Let  me  give  some  indications  of  it.  “Principal  doctrine:  In 
our  power  lies  the  turning  {Zurechtlegung)  of  sutfering  into 
blessing,  of  poison  into  a nourishment.”  “We  must  take  upon 
ourselves  all  the  suffering  that  has  been  borne  by  men  and 
animals,  and  affirm  it,  and  have  an  aim  in  which  it  acquires 
reason.”  Rational  significance  could  thus  be  lent  even  to 
animal  existence,  but  it  was  the  human  world  for  which,  above 
all,  Nietzsche  was  concerned.  He  represents  the  ugliest,  for- 
lornest  man  declaring  after  a day  with  Zarathustra,  “It  is 
worth  living  on  the  earth.  One  day,  one  festival  with  Zara- 
thustra teaches  me  to  love  the  earth.  ” “ The  danger  of  return 

to  animality  exists.  We  give  a posthumous  justification  to  all 
the  dead  and  a meaning  to  their  life,  when  we  create  the  super- 
man out  of  the  material  bequeathed  to  us  by  them  {aus  diesem 
Stoff),  and  give  to  all  the  past  a goal.”®^  The  higher  aim  is 
represented  as  one  in  which  all  may  unite.  “We  will  create  a 
being,  we  will  all  have  part  in  it,  love  it,  we  will  all  be  heavy 
with  child  (schwanger)  with  it — and  honor  and  revere  ourselves 
on  this  account.  We  must  have  an  aim,  for  whose  sake  we  are 
all  dear  to  one  another.”®®  Nothing  less  than  an  entire  human- 
ity, so  far  as  it  can  be  turned  into  an  organism  working  to  this 
end,  may  thus  be  justified:  laborers,  farmers,  scholars,  teachers, 
women  as  truly  as  men,  state  officials  and  princes,  homines 

Werke,  XIV,  226,  §§  26,  25. 

Zarathustra,  IV,  xix. 

Werke,  XII,  360,  § 667 ; cf.  § 678  (“  The  past  in  us  to  be  overcome: 
the  impulses  to  be  newly  combined  and  all  to  be  directed  together  to  one 
goal — very  difficult  ” ) . 

“/hid.,  XII,  362,  § 687. 


THE  IDEAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  SOCIETY  447 


religiosi  too — every  class  and  every  individual  capable  of  func- 
tioning. When  then  Dr,  Dolson  says,  “the  weak  can  hardly  be 
said  to  have  an  end,”  she  can  only  mean  “be  their  own  end.” 
Yet  when,  I ask,  was  it  taken  for  granted — at  least  before  these 
democratic  and  subtly  egoistic  days,  inaugurated  in  no  small 
measure  by  Rousseau  and  Kant — that  a man  might  not  have 
an  end  outside  himself  and  be  dignified  rather  than  lowered  by 
it?  How  do  most  of  us  human  creatures  get  worth  anyway, 
save  by  serving  something  beyond  us — some  cause,  some  insti- 
tution, some  permanent  interest,  the  commonwealth,  the  church, 
the  law — throwing  in  our  mite  to  the  greater  result  and  first 
gaining  5eZ/-respect  as  we  do  so?  If  we  really  take  ourselves 
as  ends,  what  becomes  of  most  of  us?  Nietzsche  thinks  that 
many  throw  away  their  last  worth  when  they  throw  away  their 
servitude.  No,  the  “weak”  (i.e.,  the  relatively  weak,  as  con- 
trasted with  those  great  and  significant  enough  to  be  their  own 
ends),  all  these  functionaries  of  society  from  the  lowest  laborer 
up,  most  decidedly  have  an  end — and  that  is  to  fit  into,  and 
become  worthy  members  of  a social  organism  aiming  in  the 
transcendent  direction  already  described.'^  Nietzsche  speaks 
expressly  of  the  classes  as  “reciprocally  conditioning  each 
other,”®®  and  time  and  again  of  the  third  class  as  the  indis- 
pensable prerequisite  of  the  first. 

But  something  more  may  be  said.  In  a way,  the  lower  class 
does  best  for  itself  when  it  functions  in  the  way  described. 
Though  in  a sense  it  is  a sacrificed  class,  and  Nietzsche  so  speaks 
of  it,  the  sense  is  one  which  the  average  member  of  the  class 
would  hardly  know  how  to  appreciate — for  he  feels  of  most 
consequence  as  a social  functionary,  and  would  scarcely  know 
what  to  do,  if  left  to  himself.®  Nietzsche  emphasizes  the  fact 
that  his  distinction  of  the  classes  has  natural  foundations.  Just 
as  the  physical  body  has  enjoyment  when  it  is  well  ruled  (by 
the  higher  will-centers),  so  in  society.  The  strong  are  as  indis- 
pensable for  the  weak  as  the  weak  are  for  the  strong,  and 
obeying  is  a self-preservative  function  as  truly  as  command- 
ing.®^ There  may  have  to  be  a trial  of  strength  to  know  who  is 
stronger  and  who  weaker — sometimes  the  conflict  may  have 

The  Antichristian,  § 57. 

" Werke,  XIV,  81,  § 161;  XIII,  170,  § 393. 


448 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


sharp  outward  form  (as  when  the  Aryan  races  came  down  on 
the  European  aborigines).  At  other  times  no  actual  trial  may 
be  necessary,  the  results  being  taken  for  granted  in  advance. 
But  even  after  violence,  relations  of  interdependence  may  result 
all  the  same,  and  the  two  parts  of  the  social  body  fit  together 
with  a natural,  almost  chemical  affinity.®*  Much  of  the  mis- 
understanding of  Nietzsche,  owing  to  his  use  of  the  language  of 
conquest  to  describe  the  relation  of  the  ruler  to  the  subject- 
classes,  is  due  to  a failure  to  perceive  that  conquest  may  issue 
eventually  in  an  amicable  relation  in  which  advantages  exist 
on  both  sides.*  Sometimes,  too,  he  describes  the  ruler  as  a felt 
benefactor  from  the  start,  one  ‘ ‘ to  whom  the  weak  and  suffering 
and  oppressed  and  even  animals  gladly  turn  and  naturally  be- 
long.”®® He  conceives  of  Napoleon,  not  as  an  oppressor  of  the 
mass,  but  rather  as  a relief,  a benefit  to  them.™  From  a similar 
point  of  view  he  advances  the  idea  that  the  European  masses, 
who  are  now  being  mixed,  averaged,  democratized,  will  some  day 
need  a strong  man,  a “tyrant,”  as  they  need  their  daily  bread.™ 
In  short,  ruling  benefits  the  ruled;  social  organization  is  not 
only  served  by  the  weak,  it  serves  them.  Hence  to  say,  as  Dr. 
Dolson  does,  that  the  weak  in  Nietzsche’s  eyes  are  “nothing 
but  material  upon  which  the  strong  may  exercise  their  power,” 
that  he  bids  the  great  man  restrain  his  sympathetic  and  social 
feelings  so  far  as  he  can,  even  destroying  them  utterly,  if  pos- 
sible, as  unworthy  of  him,™  is  hardly  an  adequate  account  of 
the  matter.  In  the  end,  then,  there  is  no  “social  dualism,”  and 
it  is  a question  whether  there  ever  was ; " there  is  of  course  a 
difference,  even  a certain  antagonism,  between  the  classes,  but 
not  to  such  an  extent  as  to  hinder  co-operation  in  the  social 
body — the  difference  might  even  be  said  to  be  to  a certain 
extent  a condition  of  co-operatio£i.^ 

The  difficulties  are  greater  when  we  approach  the  matter 
from  the  side  of  the  higher  classes.  Here  what  Nietzsche  says 
really  puzzles  us.  I have  in  mind  now  not  the  ruler  class 
proper,  though  it  is  what  Nietzsche  says  of  these  that  has  given 

Cf.  the  striking  metaphor  used  in  Werke,  IX,  155. 

Beyond  Oood  and  Evil,  § 293. 

’o"  Ibid.,  § 199. 

^o^lbid.,  §242. 

Op.  cit.,  pp.  98-9. 


THE  IDEAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  SOCIETY  4-49 


rise  to  most  of  the  criticism.  Whatever  their  exploitation  of 
the  subject-class,  however  rigorously  they  may  rule  them,  they 
are  conceived  of  as  ultimately  benefiting  them,  as  being  as 
indispensable  to  them  as  a shepherd  is  to  his  flock  (this  as 
against  the  anarchistic,  or,  for  that  matter,  democratic  view).'^ 
The  difficulty  is  with  the  class  above  them,  and  with  them  only 
as  to  one  side  of  their  being.  For  so  far  as  they  are  the 
philosophers  and  lawgivers  of  society,  they  are  organically  re- 
lated to  it  and  themselves  social  functionaries,  though  of  a 
most  sublimated  sort.=^  The  difficulty  is  so  far  as  they  are  con- 
ceived of  as  independent  individuals.  For  from  just  this  point 
of  view,  they  do  not,  in  any  ordinary  sense,  serve  society  at  all, 
though  society  serves  them  most  materially,  since  without  it 
they  could  not  live.  Here  then  is  a one-sided,  not  a mutual 
relation — an  apparent  violation  of  the  organic  idea.  Indeed, 
they  exist  apart  from  society  (save  as  physically,  economically, 
bound  to  it) — that  is,  they  have  their  own  spheres  of  interest, 
their  own  occupations — each  one  indeed  more  or  less  Ms  own, 
for  they  represent  the  extremes  of  individuality,  as  contrasted 
with  sociality.  In  this  age  we  exalt  sociality — the  tendency  is 
transforming  economics  and  ethics,  and  more  or  less  reshaping 
psychology  itself;  even  theology,  formerly  a doctrine  “of  the 
One  and  Only”  is  affected,  society  being  considered  as  not  only 
(as  the  elder  James  taught)  the  redeemed  form  of  man,*“  but 
the  more  or  less  necessary  form  of  all  life.  Yet  here  is  a thinker 
for  whom  the  most  significant  line  of  cleavage  between  men  is 
as  to  how  social  and  how  solitary  they  are — and  he  gives  the 
solitary  type  the  higher  place ! By  no  means  does  he  forget 
the  original  sociality  of  man,  or  underrate  the  educating  influ- 
ence of  social  life,  or  overlook  the  secular  processes  by  which 
individuals  are  at  last  made  possible.  Sir  John  Seeley  spoke 
in  a notable  passage  of  isolation  as  the  opposite  of  humanity, 
and  Nietzsche  would  not  have  contested  it  as  history,  or  in  most 
cases  as  fact  now;  his  thought  is  simply  that  society  may  now 
and  then  yield  a result  beyond  itself,  that  the  very  education 
it  gives  the  individual  may  work  that  way,  that  from  being 
trained  to  obey  he  can  learn  to  command,  and  from  command- 

Henry  James,  Society  the  Redeemed  Form  of  Man  (Boston,  1879). 

Will  to  Power,  § 886. 


i50 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


ing  others  can  learn  to  command  himself,  and  that  such  ripe, 
self-legislating  individuals  may  well  have  spheres  of  life  and 
interest  strictly  their  own. 

The  difficulty  is  in  making  out  how  individuals  so  separated 
from  society  can  be  organically  related  to  it.  For  Nietzsche 
carries  the  thought  of  independence  very  far.  He  distinguishes 
one  who  belongs  to  his  higher  self  from  one  who  belongs  to  his 
office  or  his  family  or  to  society He  counts  as  individual 
activity  neither  the  activity  of  a merchant,  nor  that  of  the 
official,  nor  that  of  the  scholar,  nor  that  of  the  statesman.^®®  To 
him  the  teacher  is  not  yet  an  individual,  and  is  indeed  in 
danger  of  losing  his  proper  self:  “he  who  is  thoroughly  a 
teacher  takes  all  things  seriously  only  in  relation  to  his  pupils — 
indeed,  even  himself.  Nothing  is  rarer  than  a personal 
action.^”®  Personal  life  is  something  independent  of  social  ef- 
fects. When  Buckle  attacked  the  theory  that  “great  men”  are 
the  levers  and  causes  of  great  movements,  he  misconceived  them, 
for  the  “higher  nature”  of  the  great  man  is  in  his  different 
being,  in  his  incommunicableness,  in  the  distance  involved  in 
his  rank  (Rangdistanz) — not  in  any  effects  that  go  out  from 
him,  not  even  if  the  earth  shook.™’'  His  worth  lies  so  little  in 
his  utility,  that  it  would  exist  just  the  same  if  there  were  no 
one  to  whom  he  could  be  useful — and  it  is  not  impossible  that 
he  might  have  a harmful  influence,  others  perishing  of  envy  of 
him.™  Indeed,  to  estimate  the  value  of  a man  by  his  use  to 
others,  his  cost  or  his  injury  to  them,  has  as  much  and  as  little 
sense  as  to  estimate  a work  of  art  by  the  effects  it  produces.^^^ 
Morality  itself  (as  has  been  noted  in  another  connection)  does 
not  affect  this  value  of  a man — does  not  touch  the  question; 
and  whether  we  preach  the  ruling  morality  or  criticise  it,  such 
preoccupation  shows  that  we  belong  essentially  to  the  flock 
(rather  than  to  ourselves),  even  if,  as  its  highest  necessity,  a 

Werke,  XI,  216,  § 145. 

Human,  etc.,  § 283. 

"‘''Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §63. 

Will  to  Power,  § 886. 

Ibid.,  § 876. 

Ibid.,  § 877.  It  may  be  a part  of  the  very  greatness  of  a man 
that  others  cannot  draw  advantage  from  him  (cf.  what  is  said  of  Goethe, 
Twilight  etc.,  ix,  §50). 

Will  to  Power,  § 878. 


THE  IDEAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  SOCIETY  451 


shepherd.”^  “We  must  give  men  courage  for  a new  and  great 
form  of  contempt — of  the  rich,  for  example,  of  officials  and  so 
forth : every  unpersonal  form  of  life  must  rank  as  common  and 
despicable.””*  “My  thought:  ends  are  lacking  and  these  must 
be  individual.  We  see  the  universal  driving:  everybody  is 
sacrificed  and  serves  as  instrument.  Let  one  go  through  the 
streets  and  ask  if  it  is  not  pure  ‘slaves’  whom  one  meets.  To 
what  end?  For  what  purpose?””^ 

Undoubtedly  the  difficulty  of  reconciling  all  this  with  an 
organic  view  is  considerable;  Nietzsche’s  “great  individuals” 
seem  separate  from  society  rather  than  a part  of  it.  And  yet 
he  speaks  of  the  three  classes  as  “mutually  conditioning  each 
other”  (sich  gegenseitig  Itedmgende) — and  this  strictly  indi- 
vidual manner  of  existence  is  the  most  characteristic  aspect  of 
the  first  class. 

Perhaps  a way  out  is  in  conceiving  the  organic  in  a some- 
what different  manner  from  the  ordinary.  As  commonly  under- 
stood, an  organism  is  something  in  which  all  the  parts  are  in 
turn  means  and  ends.  But  might  there  not  be  an  organism  in 
which  certain  parts  only  are  ends,  and  the  rest  means  to  them? 
Is  the  common  conception  perhaps  an  unconscious  reflection  of 
our  prevailing  social  ideals — a democratic  idiosyncrasy?  and 
may  an  aristocratic  conception  (if  we  please  to  term  it  so)  be 
just  as  biological  and  scientific?  However  this  may  be,  it  is 
plain  what  Nietzsche’s  view  is.  Great  individuals  alone  are, 
to  his  mind,  ends  proper,  and  they  cannot  possibly  be  turned 
into  means  to  ends  beneath  them ; others  are  equally  means  and 
cannot  possibly  be  conceived  as  ends,  though  existence  and 
happy  functioning  may  well,  indeed  must,  be  assured  to  them. 
If  the  higher  kind  of  men  can  be  said  at  all  to  serve  the  common 
run  of  us,  it  is  not  in  a material  way,  but  in  giving  a possible 
justification  to  us,  a possible  meaning  to  our  existence.  With 
them  in  view  or  in  prospect,  taking  our  place  in  a social  process 
which  tends  to  produce  them,  we  can  lift  up  our  heads,  if  ever 
depression  and  doubt  come  to  us  as  to  whether  our  life  is  worth 
while, — and  perhaps  there  could  be  no  greater  service  in  the 
world  to  us  than  this.^ 

Ibid.,  § 879.  See  p.  326  and  other  citations  there. 

Werke,  XII,  122,  § 240. 

***  Will  to  Power,  § 269. 


452 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


I may  add  that  the  difficulty  is  also  lessened,  if,  without 
varying  the  essential  thought,  we  resort  to  slightly  different 
language.  Nietzsche  speaks  of  “the  social  type”  and  the  “soli- 
tary type”  as  “both  necessary” ; and  “necessary”  can  only 
mean  essential  to  a whole  of  which  both  are  parts.  We  may 
quarrel  with  him  for  speaking  of  solitary  individuals  as  a social 
class,  may  find  it  a contradictio  in  adjecto;  but  it  may  also  be 
that  the  surface  contradiction  takes  us  straight  into  his  deeper 
meaning.  For  the  solitary  individuals  are  still  human:  nay,  to 
Nietzsche,  they  are  the  crown  and  culmination  of  humanity. 
Yet  if  so,  society  and  humanity  are  not  exactly  co-extensive 
conceptions — there  may  be  an  unsocial  type  of  humanity,  i.e., 
society  is  only  a particular  form  of  humanity,  not  its  sub- 
stance.®* Well,  this  was  just  what  Nietzsche  held — and  Pro- 
fessor Simmel,  with  his  customary  acuteness  and  profound 
grasp  of  whatever  subject  he  takes  up,  has  particularly  noted 

Society  is  the  “redeemed  form”  of  the  lower  man,  but 
the  higher  man  is,  in  one  aspect  of  his  being,  beyond  it — he 
makes  and  is  his  own  law,  he  is  not  a part  or  function,  but  a 
whole  by  himself.’’^’  The  great  individual  is  humanity  itself  at 
its  topmost  reach.  In  one  way,  every  individual  may  be  re- 
garded as  humanity,  i.e.,  not  merely  as  an  atom,  one  of  a chain, 
but  as  the  whole  stock  and  process  back  of  him  as  it  constitutes 
itself  at  a given  moment  (as  Nietzsche  puts  it,  as  “the  whole 
chain,”  “the  whole  line  of  man  up  to  himself”)  ; but  the  higher 
individual  is  humanity  risen  to  a new  level,  the  total  life  “takes 
a step  further  with  him” — and  it  is  a secondary  matter  whether 
others,  society,  profit  by  him  or  lose.“^  When,  then,  Nietzsche 
says  that  both  types,  the  social  and  solitary,  are  necessary,  we 
may  say  that  he  means  necessary  to  humanity,  not  society — or 
if  to  society,  then  so  far  as  the  rarer,  higher  type  is  needed  to 
give  a final  justification  to  society 

The  two  types,  as  stated,  fit  together  and  yet  they  are  very 
different  and  they  fit  together  just  because  they  are  different. 

Will  to  Power,  § 886. 

cit.,  pp.  206-11;  Simmel  thinks  that  Goethe  made  (in  effect) 
similar  distinctions. 

I am  not  sure  wliether  I get  Nietzsche’s  exact  shade  of  meaning 
here — let  the  student  consult  the  passages,  Will  to  Power,  § 687  (cf. 
§§  682,  678,  785);  Ticilight  etc.,  ix,  §33;  also  Simmel’s  exposition,  just 
cited. 


THE  IDEAL  ORGANIZATION  OF  SOCIETY  453 

Eaeli  has  its  own  law  of  being ; what  is  safe  for  one  is  perilous 
for  the  other — the  social  man  is  liable  to  degenerate  when  he 
tries  to  be  an  independent  individual,  and  the  higher  man 
descends  when  he  becomes  a mere  social  functionary.^^®  “The 
flock  feeling  shall  rule  in  the  flock,  but  not  beyond ; the  leaders 
need  their  own  valuations,  and  the  independent  ones  theirs.  ’ ’ 

And  not  only  the  moral,  but  the  religious  sentiment  may  shape 
itself  differently  in  the  two  classes,  and  this  be  well.  A religion 
like  Christianity,  with  its  emphasis  on  unselflshness  and  pity, 
may,  if  it  avoid  excesses,  be  valuable  to  the  flock,^®®  though  to 
others  it  may  be  inadequate,  or,  if  taken  absolutely,  false  and 
pernicious  and  something  to  be  fought — as  matter  of  fact,  the 
higher  classes,  so  far  as  they  have  not  been  themselves  debili- 
tated by  Christianity,  have  in  favoring  it  usually  done  so  pour 
encourager  les  autresF'-  All  along  the  line,  the  differences  be- 
tween the  classes  are  in  the  total  interest  to  be  accentuated 
rather  than  diminished.  To  attempt  to  bring  the  types  together 
is  as  great  a mistake  as  it  would  be  to  seek  to  abolish  the  dis- 
tinctions of  the  sexes.  Fundamental  biological  needs  determine 
sex  differentiation — if  there  were  not  more  or  less  antithesis  and 
antagonism,  there  would  not  be  attraction;  and  the  greater  pur- 
poses of  life  determine  the  differentiation  of  classes.  Nothing 
is  more  undesirable  in  Nietzsche’s  eyes  than  “hermaphrodit- 
ism,” or  the  Tsehandala  (his  term  not  for  the  lowest  class,  as 
is  often  supposed,  but,  following  ancient  Hindu  usage,  for  the 
result  of  a mixing  of  the  classes — he  would  have  agreed  per- 
fectly with  Mrs.  Carlyle’s  saying  that  the  “mixing  up  of  things 
is  the  great  bad”).  To  develope  the  distinctly  typical  and  make 
the  gap  deeper — that  is  the  true  course.^®'®  Even  the  extreme 
leveling  and  mechanizing  of  men  going  on  under  the  modern 
democratic  and  industrial  movement  may  have  meaning  and 

Cf.  Will  to  Poicer,  §§  901,  904,  886. 

§ 287. 

Nietzsche  says  distinctly  that  his  aim  is  not  to  annihilate 
the  Christian  ideal,  but  to  put  an  end  to  its  tyranny  (Will  to  Power, 
§361;  cf.  §132,  and  Werke,  XIV,  66-7,  §132);  cf.  G.  Chatterton-Hill’s 
discriminations,  op.  cit.,  p.  136.  See  still  further  as  to  the  uses  of  re- 
ligion for  the  common  man.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §61;  Werke,  XIII, 
300,  §§  736-7. 

^^^Will  to  Power,  §§  216,  373  (cf.  Hal6vy,  op.  cit.,  p.  373;  Faguet, 
op.  cit.,  pp.  248-9 ) . 

Will  to  Power,  § 866. 


454 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


utility  from  this  point  of  view ; the  huge,  equalized,  mechanized 
mass  will  create  a surplus  of  force  hitherto  unknown  and  at 
once  make  possible  and  call  for  a new  complemental  race,  to 
utilize  the  heaped-up  force  in  new  human  adventures  and  give 
the  mass  a justification.'®  Ever  is  some  kind  of  organic  relation 
between  the  different  parts  of  humanity  uppermost  in  Nietz- 
sche ’s  mind,  some  as  necessary  means,  others  as  equally  necessary 
ends.” 


CHAPTER  XXX 


SOCIAL  CONSTRUCTION  (Concluded).  POLITICAL  VIEWS 
AND  ANTICIPATIONS 

I 

Nietzsche’s  political  principles  are  implied  in  his  general  social 
doctrine  and  receive  no  separate  statement.  The  state  was 
originally  founded  on  force  and  not  on  contract/  though  it 
may  be  assented  to  in  time  and  obedience  to  it  become  a second  ‘ 
nature.^  Political  power  is  conceived  of  as  coming  from  abov^ 
down,  not  from  below  up.  Sovereignty  is  inherent  in  the  first 
social  class,  delegated  to  the  second  class  (the  rulers),  and  only 
sparingly  to  be  granted  to  the  third  (business  and  professional 
men  and  laborers).  So  far  as  the  third  class  are  allowed  power, 
it  should  be  as  great  interests  rather  than  as  individuals — and 
the  idea  is  evidently  that  they  should  be  heard,  considered, 
rather  than  rule.^  It  cannot  be  too  distinctly  stated  that  pos- 
session of  power,  not  wealth,  is  the  distinguishing  mark  of  the 
two  upper  classes.  They  control  wealth,  but  the  lowest  class 
may  own  more  of  it  than  they — they  live  “poorer  and  more 
simply,  still  in  possession  of  power.  ” ^ It  is  an  odd  conception 
in  this  plutocratic  age. 

The  state,  like  independent  social  groups  in  general,  has  a 
more  or  less  super-moral  way  of  thinking  and  acting.®  Morality, 
in  Nietzsche’s  conception,  as  we  have  already  seen,  concerns  the 
relation  of  parts  of  a society  to  one  another  and  to  the  whole, 
but  does  not  apply  to  the  whole  as  such.®  Eepresenting  the 

* Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 17. 

‘ Nietzsche  even  speaks  of  power  being  “ intrusted  ” to  his  future 
ruling  caste,  their  innate  superiority  demonstrating  itself  in  a variety 
of  ways  (Werke,  XII,  204,  § 434)  ; and  he  admits  that  reverence  and  the 
nobler  emotions  have  played  their  part  in  sustaining  state-formations  in 
the  past  (iMd.,  XIII,  195). 

= Cf.  iUd.,  XIII,  352,  § 872. 

^ Will  to  Power,  § 764. 

^ IUd.,  § 927. 

° See  pp.  218  ff. 


456 


456 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


social  whole  as  the  shepherd  does  his  flock,  the  state  may  act  to 
other  societies,  and  even  on  occasion  to  its  own  subjects,  as  the 
individual  members  of  a society  in  their  dealings  with  one  an- 
other may  not.  It  may  kill,  rob,  subject  the  unwilling  to  control, 
lie,  deceive,  entrap,  without  and  within  (in  the  latter  ease, 
through  its  courts  and  executioners,  taxation-agencies,  com- 
pulsory schools,  and  police) — acts  absolutely  forbidden  to  pri- 
vate persons.^  In  a sense  it  is  “immorality  organized,”®  which 
is  not,  however,  a reflection  on  it  as  might  be  imagined,  but 
rather  an  indication  of  the  limited  range  of  morality.  Nietzsche 
remarks  that  the  study  of  societies  is  particularly  instructive, 
as  man  shows  himself  more  naive  in  them — societies  always 
using  morality  [and  by  implication,  dispensing  with  it,  on 
occasion]  for  their  own  ends  (of  force,  power,  order).®  In 
other  words,  politics  is  essentially  Machiavellian — i.e.,  it  has  its 
aim  (the  good  of  the  social  body)  and  does  whatever  is  necessary 
to  secure  it ; its  rule  is  expediency  entirely,  though  to  know  all 
the  depths  and  refinements  of  expediency,  and  to  have  the 
courage  to  act  accordingly,  may  require  almost  superhuman 
powers.'®  A statesman,  for  example,  who  does  not  believe  in 
parliaments  on  principle,  may  none  the  less  make  use  of  them — 
he  may  find  them  extremely  useful,  when  he  wants  something 
upon  which  he  can  support  himself,  on  to  which  he  can  shift 
responsibility."  The  state  and  the  statesman  have  to  reckon 
with  much  greater  complexes  of  effects  than  private  morality 
does,  and  a world  economy  is  conceivable  with  such  long-range 
perspectives  that  all  its  single  requirements  would  seem  for  the 
moment  unjust  and  arbitrary.'^  That  a state  may  do  whatever 

’ Wer/ce,  XIII,  195-6,  § 431.  Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 755,  where  it  is 
said  that  there  is  an  element  of  violence  in  law,  and  of  hardness  and 
egoism  in  every  kind  of  authority. 

‘ The  phrase  is,  I think,  Nietzsche’s  own,  though  I cannot  locate  it 
(I  borrow  it  from  Ribot’s  summary  of  Orestano’s  Le  idee  fondamentali  di 
F.  Nietzsche  in  the  Revue  Philosophique,  April,  1903,  p.  456).  On  the 
other  hand,  it  is  just  for  moral  reasons  that  he  fulminates  against  the 
state  in  Zarathustra,  I,  xi— but  I think  that  he  really  has  in  mind  there 
the  artificial  political  formations  of  modern  times  (see  later,  p.  459). 

' I follow  Faguet  (op.  cit.,  p.  240)  here,  not  being  able  to  place  the 
original  passage. 

Will  to  Poiver,  § 304.  In  speaking  here  of  Machiavellism  as  the 
type  of  perfection  in  politics,  Nietzsche  calls  it  something  “ superhuman, 
divine,  transcendent.” 

’■  Werlce,  XIII,  349,  § 864. 

Will  to  Power,  § 927. 


POLITICAL  VIEWS  AND  ANTICIPATIONS 


457 


its  interests  require  does  not,  however,  mean  (so  far  as  the  logic 
of  Nietzsche’s  thought  is  concerned)  that  it  may  not  of  its  own 
accord  make  contracts  or  treaties  with  other  states,  and  then 
be  hound  by  them  as  truly  as  individuals  are  by  contracts  with 
other  individuals.  It  becomes  to  this  extent  in  effect  a member 
of  a larger  society,  however  shadowy  and  tentative  this  may 
be,  and  the  ordinary  law  governing  the  relations  of  parts  of 
a social  whole,  i.e.,  morality,  applies  to  it.  States  that  break 
their  word  incur  the  contempt  which  falls  on  all  liars,  as  so 
vividly  described  in  Genealogy  of  Morals,  II,  § 

n 

Nietzsche  is  sometimes  set  down  as  an  anarchist.  The  Social 
Museum  of  Harvard  University  so  classes  him,^*  and  what  may 
rank  with  some  as  a higher  authority,  the  Encyclopoedia  Brit- 
ianica,  says  that  his  “revolt  against  the  theory  of  state- 
supremacy  turned  him  into  an  anarchist  and  individualist.  ” ^ 
But  this  view  has  a very  limited  truth.  He  did  indeed  think 
that  the  modern  world  is  approaching  an  “age  of  anarchy,”  as 
has  been  before  noted,  and  he  failed  to  take  the  situation  as 
tragically  as  some  would,  for  he  thought  that  compensations 
would  arise — just  as  there  had  been  compensations  for  the 
French  Revolution  in  the  rise  of  a Napoleon  and  a Beethoven.^® 
Anarchy  is  an  opportunity  for  master-spirits  of  original  force — 
almost  a compulsion  to  them.  But  to  suppose  that  anarchy  was 
an  ideal  to  him  is  to  fundamentally  misconceive  him — save  as 
to  one  particular  feature  of  his  social  doctrine.  For  the  general 
non-political  attitude  of  Nietzsche,  his  aversion  to  taking  part 
in  the  public  life  of  his  time,  is  no  more  to  be  set  down  as 
anarchism  than  a similar  “apolitie”  of  some  of  the  Greek  phi- 
losophers, on  which  Burckhardt  comments.’^  When  he  said,  “It 
seems  to  me  useful  that  there  should  be  some  Germans  who 
remain  indifferent  to  the  German  Empire — not  merely  as  a 
spectator  might,  but  as  those  who  turn  their  faces  away  from 

See  ante,  p.  220. 

Publications  of  the  Department  of  Social  Ethics  in  Harvard  Uni- 
versity, number  4,  p.  8. 

Art.  “ Nietzsche.” 

^^Werke,  XIII,  361,  § 887;  cf.  XII,  108,  §219.  On  the  possibility  of 
an  eventual  peaceful  disappearance  of  the  state,  see  cmte,  p.  141,  and 
Human,  etc.,  § 472. 


458 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


this  does  not  mean  that  he  disapproves  of  empires  in 
general,  or  that  he  would  not  have  taken  part  in  the  defense  of 
the  German  Empire,  however  much  he  disapproved  of  it,  if  it 
had  been  attacked  (whether  by  anarchists  or  anybody  else). 
Even  if  he  does  not  put  political  activity  in  the  highest  range 
of  human  activities,  he  does  not  question  its  necessity — the 
place  and  function  of  the  second  class  (the  rulers)  in  his 
ideal  scheme  of  social  organization  alone  demonstrates  this. 
It  is  true  that  he  hates  “the  non-plus-ultra  state  of 
the  socialists”;  and  he  does  not  want  too  “ordered  condi- 
tions, ” or  to  take  the  risks  out  of  life  absolutely,  for  anybody ; 
but  the  ordinary  protection  of  life  and  property  which  the 
state  gives  is  something  he  takes  for  granted  as  necessary  and 
desirable — he  wished  rather  that  the  state  should  do  this  work 
better,  and  particularly  that  property  should  be  more  widely 
distributed.^® 

And  yet,  as  we  have  seen,  higher  than  the  citizen  or  any 
social  functionary  (whether  policeman  or  prince)  is  to  his  mind 
the  individual  who  takes  his  law  from  within  and  has  his  own 
sphere  and  quantum  of  life,  more  or  less  independently  of  so- 
ciety. Here  lies  whatever  basis  there  is  for  the  idea  that  Nietz- 
sche is  anarchistic.  These  higher  individuals  are  unquestion- 
ably a law  to  themselves  and  above  the  state.  But  this  view 
has  so  little  in  common  with  what  is  ordinarily  called  anarchism 
that  it  is  positively  misleading  to  use  this  word  in  connection 
with  it.  Anarchism  in  the  common  revolutionary  sense  Nietz- 
sche abhorred.^®  Anarchism  in  the  so-called  “philosophical” 
sense,  had  he  known  of  it,  would  have  been  almost  equally  repug- 
nant, for  its  ideal  is  liberty  for  all,  the  cure  for  the  evils  of 
liberty  being  “more  liberty”  and  so  on,  while  in  Nietzsche’s 
estimation  only  the  few  are  fit  for  liberty,  the  rest  doing  best 
both  for  themselves  and  for  society  as  they  obey  social  laws. 
Never,  so  far  as  I remember,  does  Nietzsche  use  the  term 
“anarchy”  or  “anarchism”  in  a laudatory  sense.^^  Laisser 

” Werke,  XIII,  351-2,  § 871. 

Ibid.,  XI,  369,  § 557;  cf.  Human,  etc.,  § 235. 

Cf.  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 285. 

Cf.  the  reference  to  the  “ spouting  and  subversive  devils,”  who  roar 
for  “ freedom,”  in  Zarathustra,  II,  xviii. 

Unless  in  a passage  in  which  anarchy  of  opinion  is  referred  to, 
cited  on  p.  410  (Werke,  XII,  191,  §410). 


POLITICAL  VIEWS  AND  ANTICIPATIONS 


459 


faire,  of  which  anarchism  is  only  the  extreme  application,  he 
almost  uniformly  opposes.  He  is  here,  as  in  his  ethics,  the 
antipodes  of  a thinker  like  Max  Stirner,  It  is  true  that  he 
made  no  idol  of  the  state  and  that  one  of  Zarathustra ’s  dis- 
courses appears  to  be  directed  against  it,^  but  if  we  observe 
carefully,  we  see  that  it  is  the  state  as  contradistinguished  from 
a people  or  flock  that  he  has  in  mind — artificial  formations 
such,  I may  say,  as  Austria-Hungary,  or  in  less  degree,  the 
German  Empire,  or,  for  that  matter,  the  British  Empire,  in 
opposition  to  the  natural  formations  which  arise  wherever  there 
is  unity  of  blood  or  race  or  in  the  free  following  of  a leader  or 
idea.*^  And  yet  in  peoples  and  flocks,  as  truly  as  in  these  arti- 
ficial conglomerate  states  which  only  force  holds  together,  there 
is  order,  law,  authority  as  against  individual  license,  in  short 
a Rangordnung  of  rulers  and  ruled.  Let  one  think  of  a Greek 
polis,  or  of  a primitive  Germanic  tribe,  or  of  a people  arising, 
as  Nietzsche  dreams,  out  of  the  welter  of  modern  Europe^  in 
obedience  to  a great  longing  and  a great  idea  and  under  the 
leadership  of  a great  man  or  set  of  men — in  none  of  these  was 
or  will  there  be  anarchy,  in  the  sense  of  individuals  following 
each  his  own  way  regardless  of  the  social  whole.  Only  to  the 
few  can  it  be  given  to  follow  their  own  way — and  even  so  within 
limits.  When  Nietzsche  said  “as  little  state  as  possible,”  he 
meant,  as  the  connection  clearly  shows,  for  himself  and  his 
kind ; he  did  not  mean  to  say  it  broadly  as  Herbert  Spencer 
did,  or  as  our  modern  manufacturing  and  commercial  classes  say 
it,  when  they  really  only  wish  to  be  more  free  to  follow  policies 
of  exploitation  and  greed.  For  these  particular  classes  Nietz- 
sche wished  more  state,  rather  than  less.^®  Indeed,  in  most  of 
the  relations  of  life  Nietzsche  contemplates  the  supremacy  of 
organized  civil  society — if  he  does  not  argue  for  it,  it  is  that 
he  takes  it  for  granted.  I may  refer  to  his  views  of  punishment 
(where  the  state  has  an  indispensable  function  as  over  against 
private  vengeance).^®  He  would  allow  some  experimentation  in 
marriage,  but  always  under  social  sanction.^ 

Zarathustra,  I,  xi,  “ Of  the  new  idol.” 

” The  present  war  is  only  a symptom  of  this  welter. 

Werke,  XI,  368,  567. 

See  ante,  pp.  74,  418. 

See  ante,  p.  272. 


460 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


III 

When  Nietzsche  attempts  to  make  anything  definite  of  his 
social  and  political  views,  to  form  plans  or  make  forecasts,  he 
is  perhaps  not  more  at  sea  than  most  thinkers  with  ideal  con- 
structions who  are  unable  to  connect  themselves  with  existing 
tendencies.  He  was  fully  aware  that  he  was  not  in  harmony 
with  his  time  {unzeitgemdss)  ; he  really  looked  at  the  world 
from  afar.  In  a sense  he  was  more  mediaeval  than  modern, 
even  more  Greek  than  mediaeval,  and,  I might  almost  say,  more 
Asiatic  (at  least  Hindu)  than  Greek.^^  Perhaps  there  never 
was  a more  undemocratic  thinker.  It  is  only  the  notion  of 
progress  that  he  takes  from  the  modern  (shall  I say?  Christian) 
world,  and  this  he  practically  reverses;  for  progress  to  him  is 
not,  as  to  most  of  us,  towards  universal  liberty,  equality,  fra- 
ternity, but  towards  a graded  society,  a pyramidal  form  of 
existence,  with  the  mass  at  the  foundation  and  men  like  Gods 
at  the  top. 

He  has  accordingly  a full  sense  of  the  gravity  of  the  situation 
— for  him.  Not  only  are  political  tendencies  and  social  senti- 
ments against  him,  but  morality  (as  commonly  conceived)  is. 
He  distinguishes  himself  also  from  “free-thinkers” — they  too 
are  levelers.^®  He  faces  the  (to  him)  depressing  possibility, 
that  mankind,  by  following  its  present  watchwords  of  “human- 
ity,” “sympathy,”  “pity”  (i.e.,  taking  them  absolutely,  not 
relatively  and  circumspectly)  may  become  a fixed  type  like  any 
defined  animal  species — for  hitherto  the  human  type  has  not 
been  fixed.^  How,  he  asks,  out  of  the  European  as  he  is  now 
developing — a most  intelligent  sort  of  slave-animal,  very  labori- 
ous, at  bottom  very  modest,  curious  to  excess,  multiform,  spoiled 
by  too  much  tenderness,  weak  in  will,  a cosmopolitan  chaos  of 

Nietzsche  once  says,  as  if  to  indicate  what  he  conceived  to  be  the 
line  of  progress:  “Step  by  step  to  become  more  comprehensive,  more 
super-national,  more  European,  more  super-European,  more  Oriental,  finally 
more  Greek — for  the  Greek  was  the  first  great  combination  and  synthesis 
of  all  Oriental  elements,  and  thereby  the  beginning  of  the  European 
soul”  (Will  to  Power,  § 1051). 

Cf.  Beyond  Oood  and  Evil,  § 44. 

^«Werke,  XIV,  66-7,  §132;  ef.  XII,  120,  § 235.  The  flock  as  such 
tends  to  select  those  who  fit  into  it,  guarding  itself  alike  against  those 
who  fall  below  and  those  who  rise  above  it,  i.e.,  to  produce  a fixed,  sta- 
tionary type — there  is  nothing  creative  about  it  (Will  to  Power,  § 285). 


POLITICAL  VIEWS  AND  ANTICIPATIONS 


4ffl 

emotions  and  ideas — is  ever  a strong  race  to  emerge,  a race  of 
the  classic  type  ? Moreover,  with  all  his  esteem  for  antiquity, 
he  found  no  exact  models  for  us  there,  only  suggestions,  begin- 
nings {Ansdtze)  We  have  higher  standards  than  the  old 
world;  fidelity,  magnanimity,  jealousy  for  one’s  good  name  {die 
Scham  des  guten  Rufes)  belong,  as  the  result  of  our  medieval 
inheritance,  to  our  conception  of  what  is  noble.^^  The  future 
aristocracy  cannot  follow  Greek  nobles,  who  on  occasion  would 
shamelessly  break  their  word;  although  the  heirs  and  bounden 
heirs  of  all  that  has  been  superior  in  the  past,  they  will  be  ‘ ‘ the 
firstlings  of  a new  nobility,  the  like  of  which  no  age  has  seen 
or  dreamt.  ” 

And  yet  Nietzsche  accepts  things  as  he  finds  them,  and  as  we 
have  already  seen,  believes  that  in  the  long  run,  democracy, 
socialism,  and  the  relative  decadence  accompanying  them  will 
be  utilized  by,  and  only  make  more  necessary,  the  strong  men 
of  the  future.^  The  modern  movement  has  to  run  its  course — 
we  may  check,  dam  it,  and  thereby  make  it  more  vehement  and 
sudden:  more  we  cannot  do.^®  In  the  meantime  and  as  the 
prime  thing,  there  must  be  a war  of  ideas.  Higher  men  must 
declare  war  against  the  mass.  Everywhere  the  average  are  com- 
bining to  make  themselves  master ; we  must  make  reprisals  and 
bring  all  these  goings  on  (which  began  in  Europe  with  Chris- 
tianity) to  light  and  to  judgment.^®  “If  things  went  according 
to  my  will,  it  would  be  time  to  declare  war  on  European  moral- 
ity and  all  that  has  grown  out  of  it : we  must  demolish  Europe’s 
existing  order  of  peoples  and  states.  The  Christian-democratic 
way  of  thinking  favors  the  flock-animal  and  tends  to  make  man 
smaller,  it  weakens  the  great  impulses  (such  as  the  Bose),  it 
hates  control,  hard  discipline,  great  responsibilities,  great  ven- 
tures. It  is  the  most  commonplace  who  carry  off  the  profit, 
and  put  their  measures  of  value  through.”®^  The  task  of  “en- 

Will  to  Power,  § 868. 

am  compelled  to  rely  on  Kichter  here  (op.  cit.,  p.  260,  citing 
Werke,  XV,  1st  ed.,  484). 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 199;  cf.  § 165. 

3 3 J Sci/GytcG  § 33T 

Cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 222;  Will  to  Power,  §§  132,  954-5,  960. 

Twilight  etc.,  ix,  § 43. 

Will  to  Power,  § 361. 

= ’ Werke,  XIV,  226,  § 456. 


462 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


liglitenment”  now  is  to  make  not  only  priests,  but  princes  and 
statesmen  so  sensible  of  the  untruth  of  their  conduct  that  it 
becomes  conscious  falsehood — to  strip  them  of  their  good  con- 
science?® “Also  in  the  things  of  the  mind  I wish  war  and  op- 
positions: and  more  war  than  ever,  more  oppositions  than 
ever.  ’ ’ 

But  it  is  as  to  ways  and  means  for  accomplishing  the  new 
social  order  that  Nietzsche  is  uncertain  and  vacillating.  I have 
already  spoken  of  this  in  considering  his  view  of  the  conditions 
most  favorable  to  the  emergence  of  the  superman;  I shall  now 
only  go  a little  further  into  detail.  Though  the  avoidance  of 
war  is  theoretically  possible  and  would  in  his  eyes  be  desirable,*® 
his  preponderant  opinion  is  that  the  higher  race  will  arise  and 
be  trained  in  times  of  social  disturbance  and  commotion — such 
times  making  them  indeed  necessary.  Labor  or  socialistic  crises 
seem  to  be  principally  in  his  mind — though  ordinary  wars  may 
serve  the  purpose.  The  critical  thing  is  that  circumstances  be 
of  such  a nature  that  the  new  organizing  forces  must  either 
prevail  or  go  under — only  in  this  way  will  they  be  tested  and 
bring  out  all  their  force,  and  only  as  they  show  overmastering 
force  will  the  future  (the  right  kind  of  future)  be  guaranteed.** 
Relatively  to  the  old,  sick,  moribund  culture  they  will  be  “bar- 
barians”— not  barbarians  coming  up  from  the  slums  and  below, 
such  as  our  capitalistic  society  now  fears,  but  barbarians  coming 
from  above,  of  whom  Prometheus  was  an  instance,  fresh,  un- 
spoiled conquering  natures  who  look  for  material  on  which  to 
impress  themselves.*^  It  is  men  of  this  type — completer  men, 
completer  animals — who  have  always  been  the  instruments  for 
lifting  the  human  level  and  establishing  a higher  culture,  how- 
ever fearful  and  violent  they  may  have  been  in  the  first  stages 
of  the  process  (instances  being  the  Greeks,  the  Romans,  and  the 
Germans)  *® — and  they  will  be  needed  again.  In  answering  the 
question,  “Where  are  the  barbarians  of  the  twentieth  century?” 
he  says,  “they  will  appear  and  consolidate  themselves  after 

Ihid.,  XIV,  206,  § 413. 

lUd.,  XIV,  397,  § 267. 

Ihid.,  XIII,  175-6,  § 401. 

“ Cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  770,  868. 

Ibid.,  § 900. 

Cf.  Beyond  Good  cmd  Evil,  § 257;  Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 11;  II,  § 17. 


POLITICAL  VIEWS  AND  ANTICIPATIONS 


463 


immense  socialistic  crises — being  elements  capable  of  the  greatest 
hardness  towards  themselves  and  of  guaranteeing  the  longest 
will.”^  He  is  sometimes  supposed  to  preach  a “return  to 
nature”  after  the  manner  of  Rousseau  (except  that  the  return 
is  to  be  to  a violent  instead  of  a gentle  savage),^^  but  he  tells 
us  himself  that  it  is  no  “going  back,”  but  a “coming-up”  that 
he  has  in  mind — “up  to  a high,  free,  even  fear-inspiring  nature 
and  naturalness,  one  that  plays  with  great  tasks,  dares  to  play.  ’ ’ 
Napoleon  was  this  sort  of  a “return  to  nature,”  another  in- 
stance being  Goethe.^ 


IV 

Nietzsche’s  conjectures  as  to  who,  what  stocks,  will  lead  in 
the  future  organizing  work  are  various.  His  horizon  is  prac- 
tically limited  to  Europe,  which,  with  all  its  untoward  tend- 
encies, he  conceives  of  as  the  advance-guard  of  humanity.^^ 
America  (so  far  as  it  may  be  distinguished  from  Europe)  he 
does  not  so  much  exclude,  as  fail  to  take  into  account.  He  is 
actually  little  acquainted  with  it — though  enough  to  allow  him 
to  say,  “no  American  future”!  Indeed,  he  suspects  that  Amer- 
icans use  themselves  up  too  quickly,  and  are  perhaps  only  ap- 
parently a future  world-power.^® 

As  to  the  Germans,  he  has  mixed  feelings.  The  old  stock 
was  deeply  injured  in  the  Thirty  Years’  War,  the  nobility  most 
of  all.^®  A certain  deficiency  in  the  higher  intellectual  qualities 
shows  itself  generally — “a  people  that  subjected  itself  to  the 

“ Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 868.  Nietzsche  uses  language  boldly  here  as 
always;  barbarism  as  usually  understood  is  far  from  having  bis  sym- 
pathy— see,  for  instance,  Werke,  XI,  373,  § 569. 

So  Dolson  {op.  cit.,  p.  98).  Nietzsche’s  estimate  of  Rousseau’s 
primitive  man  is  unfavorable,  whether  as  to  his  ever  having  existed  {Will 
to  Power,  §1017),  or  as  to  the  worth  of  the  type  (“Schopenhauer  as 
Educator,”  sect.  4 ) . 

Twilight  etc.,  §§  48,  49.  Nietzsche  raises  the  question  whether 
there  ever  was  a “ natural  ” mankind,  whether  anti-natural  virtues  have 
not  been  the  rule  from  the  beginning — man  coming  up  to  nature  after 
long  struggle,  not  going  back  to  it  {Will  to  Power,  § 120).  He  had  early 
said  in  answer  to  the  question  how  man  really  finds  himself,  “ Thy  true 
being  lies  not  hidden  deep  within  thee,  but  immeasurably  high  above  thee, 
or  at  least  above  that  which  thou  commonly  takest  as  thyself”  (“Scho- 
penhauer as  Educator,”  sect.  1 ) . 

Cf.,  however,  what  is  said  of  the  Asiatics,  Werke,  XIII,  330, 
§§  811-2;  326,  § 797. 

XIII,  353,  § 872;  355,  § 875. 

Ihid.,  XIII,  346-7,  § 857. 


464 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


intelligence  of  a Luther ! ” “ They  robbed  Europe  of  the  harvest, 
the  meaning  of  the  last  great  period  in  history,  the  Renais- 
sance, through  Luther  and  his  Protestantism,  “the  most  impure 
(unsauberste)  type  of  Christianity  that  exists.”®^  Twice,  when 
straight,  unambiguous,  wholly  scientific  ways  of  thinking  might 
have  established  themselves,  they  found — through  Leibnitz  and 
Kant — furtive  paths  {Schleichwege)  back  to  the  old  ideals.^^ 
The  nobility  itself  is  almost  absent  in  the  history  of  the  higher 
culture — Christianity  and  alcohol  being  large  contributory 
factors  to  the  result.®^  There  has  never  been,  properly  speaking, 
a German  culture — there  have  been  great  solitaries  who  had 
their  own,  but  Germany  in  general  has  been  in  this  respect 
rather  like  a moor  in  which  every  step  of  the  foreigner  left  its 
mark,  but  itself  was  without  character.®*  It  has  clever  and  well- 
instructed  scholars — that  is  the  principal  thing  one  can  say; 
in  particular,  a high-water  mark  and  divinatory  refinement  of 
the  historical  sense  has  been  reached.®®  Nietzsche  speaks  caus- 
tically at  times  of  the  smallness  and  pitiableness  of  the  German 
soul,  their  “Bedientenseele,”  their  involuntary  bowing  before 
titles  of  honor,  etc. ; ®®  they  know  how  to  obey  better  than  to 
command,  and  if  they  occupy  themselves  with  morality,  they 
proceed  to  idealize  the  impulse  to  obedience.  “Man  must  have 
something  he  can  unconditionally  obey” — it  is  a character- 
istically German  sentiment  and  piece  of  logic.®^  Yet,  inspired 

'»76id.,  XIII,  338,  § 840;  340,  § 845. 

The  Antichristian,  § 61 ; Ecce  Homo,  III,  x,  § 2. 

Ecce  Homo,  III,  x,  § 2. 

In  the  Crusades  (a  kind  of  higher  piracy),  the  German  nobles. 
Viking  nobles  at  bottom,  were  in  their  element — the  Church  knew  well 
what  it  had  in  them : they  were  its  “ Swiss,”  ever  in  service  of  its  bad 
instincts,  but  well-paid  (The  Antichristian,  §60). 

’^*Will  to  Power,  §791;  cf.  Werke,  XIII,  334,  § 829;  336,  § 833; 
also  Joyful  Science,  § 357,  where  Leibnitz,  Kant,  and  Hegel  are  represented 
as  German  in  their  characteristic  ideas,  but  not  Goethe  or  Schopenhauer 
or  Bismarck. 

Will  to  Poiver,  § 792;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 204.  “In  psy- 
chologicis  the  German  mind  has  always  lacked  in  fineness  and  divina- 
tion ” (Will  to  Power,  § 107). 

Werke,  XIII,  336,  § 834;  344,  §§  854-5;  347,  § 859.  The  Bedienten- 
seele becomes  “ idealized  as  scholars-and-soldiers-virtue.”  “ How  degen- 
erate in  taste,  how  servile  before  dignities,  rank,  dress,  pomp,  and  parade 
must  a people  have  been  that  estimated  the  simple  and  plain  as  the  bad 
(das  Schlichte  als  das  Schlechte) , the  simple  and  plain  man  as  the  bad 
man!  ” (Dawn  of  Day,  §231). 

‘’Hotrw  of  Day,  § 207. 


POLITICAL  VIEWS  AND  ANTICIPATIONS 


465 


by  a narrow  patriotism  and  a false  racial  pride, “ they  have 
made  themselves,  or  allowed  themselves  to  be  made,  into  a nation, 
and  have  added  one  more  to  the  system  of  small  states  into 
which  Europe  is  divided.^®  With  their  “Freiheits-Kriegen,” 
they  cut  athwart  the  possibility  of  a united  Europe  which 
Napoleon  opened,  and  brought  Europe  into  the  blind  alley 
where  it  is  today.®®  In  1870,  indeed,  they  might  have  attempted 
what  Napoleon  had,  but  they  renounced  the  task  and  com- 
promised with  democracy  and  “modern  ideas,”  under  the 
pompous  pretense  of  founding  an  Empire.®^  The  Empire  has 
absorbed  the  mind  of  Germany  since,  and  thought  and  culture 
have  suffered  correspondingly.  The  first . thing  is  now  to  be 
“German,”  to  emphasize  “race” — and  all  values  and  even  his- 
torical facts  are  estimated  accordingly.  “German”  becomes 
an  argument,  “Deutschland,  Deutschland  iiher  Alles”  a prin- 
ciple, the  Germans  are  proclaimed  as  the  “moral  world-order” 
in  history — standing  for  freedom  in  contrast  with  the  imperium 
Romanum  and  for  the  re-establishment  of  morality  against  the 
eighteenth  century ; there  is  an  Imperial-German  way  of  writing 
history,  even  “a  court  style  of  history  (and  Herr  von  Treitschke 
is  not  ashamed  . . . ) . ” ®^  The  exclusive  interest  in  questions  of 
power,  in  business  and  trade,  in  “good-living”  lowers  the  intel- 
lectual level.®®  “ ‘Deutschland,  Deutschland  iiher  Alles’ — I fear 
that  was  the  end  of  German  philosophy.”  They  were  once 
the  “people  of  thinkers” ; but  the  Germans  of  today  think  in  gen- 

“ One  must  come  down  to  Wagner  in  his  last  epoch  and  the 
Bayreuther  Bldttem  to  find  a marsh  of  presumption,  uncleanness,  and 
Deutschthumelei  equal  to  Fichte’s  ‘ Reden  an  die  deutsche  Nation  ’ ” 
(Werke,  XIII,  340,  § 846).  “The  false  Germanism  in  Richard  Wagner 
. . . goes  as  much  against  me  as  the  false  pictures  of  ancient  Rome  by 
David  or  the  false  English  Middle  Ages  of  Walter  Scott”  (Hid.,  343, 
§851). 

When  Nietzsche  speaks  of  the  “ small  states  of  Europe,”  he  says, 
“ I mean  all  our  present  states  and  ‘ Empires  ’ ” (Werke,  XIII,  357,  § 881 ) . 

Ecce  Homo,  III,  x,  §2;  cf.  Werke,  XIII,  349,  § 866;  The  Anti- 
christian, § 61. 

“ Attempt  at  Self-criticism,”  § 6,  prefixed  to  later  editions  of  The 
Birth  of  Tragedy. 

Eece  Homo,  III,  x,  § 2. 

Cf.  Werke,  XIII,  350-1,  § 870;  Genealogy  etc..  Ill,  §26. 

Twilight  etc.,  viii,  §1;  cf.  ibid.,  viii,  §4,  and  i,  §23  (“Deutseher 
Geist:  seit  achtzehn  Jahren  eine  contradictio  in  adjecto” — this  said  in 
1888)  ; Werke,  XIII,  351,  § 870  (“Germany  has  lost  the  intellectual  leader- 
ship in  Europe;  no  significant  men  come  from  her  any  longer — for  Wagner 
is  from  1813,  Bismarck  himself  from  1815”). 


466 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


eral  no  more — they  have  something  better  to  do  than  to  think; 
the  “great  polities”  swallows  up  all  earnestness  for  really  great 
things  “ The  era  of  Bismarck  is  the  era  of  German  Verdum- 
mung.^  Indeed,  with  the  new  haste  and  tension,  Nietzsche  fears 
a premature  old  age  for  the  Germans®^ — as  for  Americans. 
And  yet  there  is  a natural  seriousness,  depth,  and  capacity  for 
great  passion  in  the  German  people.®*  They  have  the  masculine 
virtues,  more  so  than  any  other  people  in  Europe;  soberness 
(Massigung),  too,  which  needs  more  a spur  than  a brake.®* 
Wagner  is  quoted  approvingly:  “The  German  is  angular  and 
awkward,  when  he  attempts  to  be  mannered,  but  he  is  grand 
{erhaben)  and  superior  to  all,  when  he  is  on  fire.”^®  He  is 
strong  in  industry,  in  endurance,  and  in  capacity  for  a cold- 
blooded critical  view  of  things;  on  account  of  these  qualities 
German  philology  and  the  German  military  system  are  ahead 
of  anything  in  Europe.^^  Although  between  the  German  of 
today  and  the  original  “blond  German  beast”  there  is  little 
connection,  whether  of  blood  or  ideas,  Germans  are  still  great 
enough  to  awaken  anxiety  in  Europe,^*  and  the  deep  injury  to 

“ WerJce,  XIII,  339-40,  § 844. 

^0  Ibid.,  XIII,  350,  § 870;  cf.  ibid.,  XIII,  351,  § 869  (“To  be 
enthusiastic  for  the  principle  ‘Deutschland,  Deutschland  iiber  Alles’ 
or  for  the  German  Empire  we  are  not  stupid  enough”);  ibid., 
Ill,  350,  § 867  {“‘Deutschland,  Deutschland  iiber  Alles’  is  perhaps 
the  most  imbecile  [blbdsinnigste]  watchword  there  ever  was.  Why 
Germany  in  general  ? — I ask,  if  it  does  not  will,  stand  for,  represent 
something  that  is  of  more  value  than  any  previous  power  stood  for!  In 
itself  only  a great  state  the  more,  an  absurdity  the  more  in  the  world.”)  ; 
also  ibid.,  XIII,  352,  § 872  (“Can  one  interest  himself  in  this  German 
Empire?  Where  is  the  new  thought?  Is  it  only  a new  combination  of 
power?  All  the  worse,  if  it  does  not  know  what  it  wills.  Peace  and 
letting  things  alone  are  no  politics  for  which  I have  respect.  To  rule 
and  help  the  highest  thought  to  victory — that  is  the  only  thing  that 
could  interest  me  in  Germany.  What  concern  is  it  of  mine  whether 
Hohenzollern  are  there  or  are  not  there?”).  The  Empire  had  helped  to 
spoil  Wagner;  Nietzsche  could  never  forgive  him  for  having  condescended 
to  it  (Ecce  Homo,  II,  § 5).  He  wished  that  his  book.  Will  to  Poiver,  were 
written  in  French,  to  avoid  the  appearance  of  strengthening  in  any  way 
Imperial  aspirations  {WerJce,  XIV,  420,  § 304). 

" WerJce,  XIV,  211,  § 423. 

TioiligJit  etc.,  vlii,  § 3. 

Ibid.,  viii,  § 1. 

“ Schopenhauer  as  Educator,”  sect.  6. 

WerJce,  XIII,  338,  § 840;  cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 209.  It  is 
in  good  part  these  qualities  that  enable  the  Germans  to  train  all  kinds  of 
mandarins  for  Europe  {Genealogy  etc.,  II,  §3) — men,  I may  say,  of  the 
type  of  Lord  Haldane  in  England,  and,  though  they  have  led  mostly  a 
scholar’s  life,  Bancroft,  Motley,  and  Burgess  in  America. 

” Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 11. 


POLITICAL  VIEWS  AND  ANTICIPATIONS  467 


the  stock  before  referred  to  has  still  left  sound  elements — 
notably  in  Hanover,  Westphalia,  Holstein,  and,  in  general. 
North  Germany/®  Peasant  blood  is  the  best,  but  Nietzsche  has 
respect  for  the  nobles  of  the  Marches  and  for  the  Prussian 
nobility  in  general — once  venturing  the  remark  that  the  future 
of  German  culture  lies  with  the  sons  of  Prussian  officers/* 
Though  Germans  understand  obeying  better  than  commanding, 
there  are  those  who  can  command/®  In  1888  Nietzsche  wrote 
his  sister,  “Our  new  Kaiser  pleases  me  more  and  more:  his 
latest  is  that  he  has  taken  a very  firm  stand  against  Anti- 
Semitism  and  the  Kreuzzeitung.  . . . He  would  surely  under- 
stand will  to  power  as  a principle.  ’ ’ Moreover,  the  present 
Verdummimg  may  not  last  forever,  and  there  may  be  room  for 
greater  ideas  than  the  Empire  in  time;  the  Germans  should 
train  a ruling  caste  on  broader  lines  than  at  present.^ 

Not  unnaturally  Nietzsche  gives  less  attention  to  other  Eu- 
ropean stocks — he  is  less  acquainted  with  them.  Of  the  English 
he  does  not  expect  much.  England  is  the  home  of  parlia- 
mentarism and  democracy.^®  Comfort,  business,  and  personal 
liberty  are  inadequate  ideals.  He  sees  more  of  the  impulse  for 
greatness  in  the  feelings  of  Kussian  Nihilists  than  in  those  of 
English  Utilitarians — “England’s  small-mindedness  (Klein- 
Geisterei)  is  now  the  greatest  danger  on  earth.  ’ ’ ™ But  he  does 
not  think  that  England  is  strong  enough  to  continue  her  old 
commercial  and  colonial  role  fifty  years  longer : too  many 

” Werke,  XIII,  346-7,  §§  857,  859. 

^^Ibid.,  XIII,  347,  § 859;  345,  § 856. 

Dawn  of  Day,  § 207. 

”Le6en,  II  (2),  890. 

’’’’ 'Werke,  XIV,  420,  § 304;  XIII,  356,  § 880;  cf.  suggestions  of  a 
new  German  “Wesen”  in  Werke  (pocket  ed.).  Ill,  435,  §4.  Nietzsche 
expresses  the  wish  that  Germans  might  get  control  of  Mexico  to 
the  end  of  giving  an  example  to  future  humanity  of  a model  forest- 
culture  (Werke,  XII,  207,  §441). 

’““Modern  ideas,”  contributory  to  or  symptomatic  of  the  European 
decline  noted  in  chap,  xxviii,  are  ultimately  of  English  origin  (Beyond 
Good  and  Evil,  § 263;  cf.  what  is  said  of  Buckle,  Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 4). 

"‘'‘Werke,  XIII,  352,  § 872  (cf.  332,  § 822).  The  last  statement  must 
be  in  view  of  England’s  'predominance  on  the  earth — she  sets  the  tone  and 
gives  the  example.  As  to  the  first  statement,  one  notices  that  the  last 
English  writer  of  distinction  on  ethics  (G.  E.  Moore,  Ethics),  as  so  many 
earlier  ones,  makes  pleasure  and  pain  the  final  measure  of  right  and 
wrong.  There  is  a friendlier  attitude  to  English  thinkers  (though  not  on 
this  score)  in  Genealogy  etc.,  I,  §1;  Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  §184;  and, 
generally,  in  his  second,  less  idealistic,  period. 


468 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


homines  novi  are  coming  to  the  helm — and  women  may  he 
entering  Parliament,  too — and  it  is  not  easy  to  turn  a private 
individual  into  a statesman  with  immense  horizons.*®  All  the 
same,  the  rule  of  the  earth  is  actually  in  Anglo-Saxon  hands, 
and  Europe  cannot  go  ahead  without  an  understanding  with 
England — the  German  element  makes  a good  ferment,  but  it 
does  not  understand  how  to  rule.*^ 

Since  Germany  has  become  a “great  power,”  France  wins 
an  altered  significance  as  a power  in  the  realm  of  culture  {als 
C ulturmacht)  F'  There  is  no  greater  error  than  to  think  that 
the  success  of  the  German  armies  [in  the  Franco-Prussian 
War]  proved  anything  in  favor  of  German  culture.®*  France 
is  the  seat  of  the  most  spiritual  and  refined  culture  in  Europe, 
though  one  must  know  where  to  find  it.®*  European  noblesse — 
of  feeling,  taste,  manners,  in  short,  in  every  high  sense — is 
France’s  work  and  invention.  But  it  was  the  work  of  the  six- 
teenth and  seventeenth  centuries,  and  now  the  dme  frangaise  is 
thin  in  comparison.  France  has  been  overcome  by  England  and 
its  “modern  ideas” — Frenchmen  having  been  the  best  soldiers 
of  these  ideas.®®  The  French  are  infected  too  with  the  skepticism 
and  weakness  of  will  which  belongs  to  modern  Europe  gen- 
erally with  its  mishmash  of  classes  and  races,  and  which  de- 
velopes  most  just  where  culture  has  existed  the  longest.®®  Nietz- 
sche evidently  no  longer  looks  for  leadership  from  France,  i.e., 
in  his  direction.’^ 

Italy  is  too  young  to  know  what  it  wills  and  must  first  prove 
that  it  can  will.®^  Nietzsche  loved  the  Italians  and  wrote  in 
Turin  in  1885,  “ Quousque  tandem,  Crispi  . . . Triple  alliance: 
with  the  ‘Empire’  an  intelligent  people  makes  ever  only  a 
mesalliance.”'^  He  found  there  “much  republican  superiority 
{Vornehmheit)  ” and  a way  of  demonstrating  excellence  and 
pride  without  vanity.®®  In  the  old  cities,  once  states,  there  was 

‘“Werke,  XIII,  .356,  § 880;  358,  §881. 

Ibid.,  XIII,  358,  §881;  359,  § 884. 

Twilight  etc.,  viii,  § 4. 

Ecce  Homo,  III,  ii,  § 1. 

Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 254. 

Ibid.,  § 253. 

Ibid.,  § 208. 

Ibid.,  § 208. 

Preface  to  “ Nietzsche  contra  Wagner.” 

Werhe,  XIII,  332,  § 824. 


POLITICAL  VIEWS  AND  ANTICIPATIONS  469 


even  among  the  lower  classes  an  aristocratic  self-sufficiency  and 
manly  breeding  (which  showed,  by  the  way,  that  it  was  not 
necessary,  as  Germans  sometimes  said,  to  have  a great  state  to 
make  the  soul  free  and  manly)  ; “a  poor  Venetian  gondolier  is 
ever  a better  figure  than  a Berlin  Geheimrath,  and  in  the  end, 
indeed,  a better  man.”®“  He  finds  too  the  Italian  genius  able 
to  make  the  freest  and  finest  use  of  what  it  borrows  from 
abroad,  and  to  contribute  more  than  it  takes — this  in  contrast 
with  the  ways  of  the  English  or  French  or  German  genius.®^ 

As  to  Russia,  Nietzsche’s  attitude  varies — indeed,  he  has 
almost  contradictory  views.  He  finds  Germany  stronger  in  will 
than  France,  and  North  Germany  stronger  than  the  central 
parts,  England  with  its  phlegm  stronger  than  Germany,  and 
Russia  strongest  of  all,  thanks  in  part  at  least  to  its  absolutist 
type  of  government  and  the  lack  [limited  extent,  we  must  now 
say]  of  the  “parliamentary  imbecility.”®^  Force  of  will  has 
been  long  accumulating  there,  and  is  now  in  threatening  manner 
awaiting  its  release.  Russia  is  the  one  power  that  has  dura- 
bility in  its  body,  that  can  still  promise  something — Russia  the 
antithesis  of  the  pitiable  European  system  of  small  states  and 
nervosity,  which  with  the  founding  of  the  German  Empire  has 
passed  into  a critical  state.  It  is  an  analogue  of  the  imperium 
Romanum?'^  With  a view  like  this  Nietzsche  contemplates  the 
possibility  of  its  becoming  the  world-power,  colonizing,  gaining 
China  and  India,  ruling  Asia  and  Europe — Europe  coming  to 
stand  to  it  somewhat  as  Greece  did  in  its  later  days  to  Rome,“ 
and  Germany,  which  already  owes  much  to  Russia,  being  its 
advance-post  and  preparing  the  way  for  a pan-Slavist  Europe. 
An  extraordinary  perspective ! And  yet  he  contemplates  a quite 
different  possibility.  From  Europe’s  own  standpoint  Russia  is 
a danger,  Europe’s  “greatest”  danger;®®  and  for  his  own  part 
he  would  prefer  a combination  against  it.  Indeed,  he  would 

'>»  Ihid.,  XIII,  344-5,  § 855. 

Will  to  Power,  § 831. 

^‘‘Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 208;  Werke,  XIII,  356,  § 880. 

Twilight  etc.,  ix,  § 39. 

Werke,  XIII,  359,  § 884;  346,  § 858. 

This  danger  would  only  disappear  with  inner  revolutions  in  Russia, 
the  splitting  up  of  the  empire  into  little  bodies,  above  all  the  introduction 
of  the  parliamentary  imbecility  and  “ the  obligation  of  everybody  to  read 
his  newspapers  at  breakfast.” 


470 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


like  to  have  Russia’s  menace  so  increased  that  Europe  would 
be  forced  to  combine  against  it,  to  get  one  will,  a long  formidable 
will  that  could  propose  aims  for  thousands  of  years — this  by 
means  of  a new  ruling  caste  that  should  transcend  national 
lines  and  put  an  end  to  the  old  comedy  of  petty  rival  states  and 
dynasties  and  peoples.  This  would  be  a great  politics  for  which 
he  would  have  heart.  “The  time  for  small  politics  is  past;  the 
next  [our]  century  will  bring  on  the  struggle  for  the  mastery 
of  the  earth  (Erd-Herrschaft) — the  compulsion  to  great  poli- 
tics. ’ ’ “ There  is  still  a third  possibility.  It  is  that  of  a com- 
bination of  Germany  and  Russia,  “a  new  common  program,” 
even  a mixing  of  the  two  races.®^ 

V 

And  yet  behind  these  varying  and  more  or  less  contradictory 
attitudes  and  forecasts  there  is  a comparatively  constant  idea — 
that  of  some  kind  of  a united  Europe  and  organization  of  the 
world.  Nietzsche’s  fundamental  problem  was  human,  and  the 
utilization  and  destination  of  mankind  is  always  in  the  back- 
ground of  his  mind.  It  is  true  that  here  also  there  is  no 
definitive  (at  least  definitively  wrought-out)  view.  There  is 
even  apparent  inconsistency.  Once  we  find  him  saying  that 
it  is  not  his  ideal  to  turn  humanity  into  one  organism — that 
there  should  be  rather  many  organisms  succeeding  one  an- 
other (wechselnde)  and  differing  types,  each  coming  to  its 
ripeness  and  perfection  and  letting  its  fruit  drop.®®  In  an- 
other place,  after  speaking  of  the  struggle  between  the  various 
social  units  or  complexes  of  power,  he  says  that  if  law  {cine 
Rechtsordnung)  became  sovereign  and  universal  and  hence 
were  directed  against  struggle  in  general,  this  would  be  hostile 
to  life  and  progress.®®  But,  on  the  other  hand,  he  speaks  of 
a “world-economy,”  of  laying  the  foundations  for  an  oligarchy 

^"Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 208. 

TFerfce,  XIII,  352-3,  § 872;  356,  § 880  (“a  German-Slav  rule  of  the 
earth  does  not  belong  to  the  most  improbable  things”)  ; XII,  208,  §441 
(Slav-Germanic-Northern  culture — lesser,  but  robuster  and  more  labori- 
ous! ”). 

08  fYerke,  XII,  204,  § 434.  If  I am  right  in  my  interpretation  of 
“ wechselnde  ” in  this  passage,  it  might  be  compared  with  ibid.,  XII,  114, 
§ 272,  where  eternal  “ states  ” are  said  to  be  something  unnatural  and 
fresh  formations  to  be  desirable. 

Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 11. 


POLITICAL  VIEWS  AND  ANTICIPATIONS 


471 


over  the  various  peoples  and  their  interests,  of  training  for  a 
universal  politics  {Erziehung  zu  einer  allmenschlichen  Poli- 
The  “rule  of  the  earth”  {Erd-Herrschaft,  or  Begierung 
der  Erde)  is  a phrase  continually  on  his  lips.  He  has  in 
mind  transcending  not  only  national,  but  racial  lines  and  ani- 
mosities.^”'^ “There  is  approaching  the  great  task  and  prob- 
lem: how  shall  the  earth  as  a whole  be  administered,  and  for 
what  shall  ‘man’  as  a whole,  and  no  longer  a people,  a race, 
be  reared  and  trained?”'”^  The  “world-economy”  which  he 
has  in  mind  is  one  in  which  the  backward  savage  races  of  Asia 
and  Africa  would  be  utilized  and  no  longer  allowed  to  live 
merely  for  themselves.'””  In  short,  an  organic  relation  of  all 
mankind  is  contemplated — and  a law  eo-extensive  with  man- 
kind would  seem  to  be  a natural  consequence.  Perhaps  the 

“0  Will  to  Power,  §§  927,  1057. 

Cf.  Joyful  Science,  § 377.  He  is  severe  here  against  the  race- 
hatred closely  connected  with  German  nationalism  and  with  the  racial 
self-admiration  which  deports  itself  as  a sign  of  German  loyal  sentiment 
today — something,  he  says,  false  twice  over  and  unseemly  in  a people 
with  the  “ historical  sense.”  While  deriding  sentimental  humanitarianism 
(and  in  effect  what  passes  nowadays  as  “cosmopolitanism”),  he  adds, 
“ We  are  a long  way  from  being  German  enough,  in  the  current  use  of 
the  term  ‘ German,’  to  speak  in  favor  of  nationalism  and  racial  hatred, 
to  be  able  to  take  pleasure  in  the  national  heart-itch  {Herzenskratze) 
and  blood-poisoning,  in  virtue  of  which  in  Europe  now  peoples  mark 
themselves  off,  barricade  themselves  against  one  another  as  with  quar- 
antine stations.”  In  Werke,  XIII,  14,  § 28,  he  speaks  of  Schopenhauer  as 
“ one  of  the  best-educated  Germans,  that  is  to  say,  a European.  A good 
German — I must  be  pardoned,  if  I ten  times  repeat  it — is  a German  no 
more.”  Cf.  also  Werke,  XIII,  349,  § 866;  356,  §§  878-9.  Nietzsche  did 
not  live  long  enough  to  pour  his  satire  on  Houston  Stewart  Chamberlain. 
He  holds  that  pure  races  no  longer  exist.  “ How  much  mendacity  and 
swamp-land  are  necessary  to  raise  race-questions  in  today’s  mishmash 
Europe!  (supposing,  that  is,  that  one  does  not  come  from  Borneo  or 
Horneo).”  “Maxim — to  have  nothing  to  do  with  a man  who  takes  part 
in  the  mendacious  race-swindle”  (Werke,  XIII,  356,  §§  878-9).  Indeed, 
he  thought  that  racial  mixtures,  if  of  a certain  kind,  might  have  good 
results.  For  Germans,  a Bedientenseele  people,  there  had  come  an  im- 
provement through  the  admixture  of  Slav  blood — Bismarck  being  an 
instance;  and  a general  growing  in  together  of  German  and  Slavic  stocks 
was  desirable  (ibid.,  XIII,  347,  § 859;  352,  § 872;  cf.  the  strong  lan- 
guage, 346,  § 858).  Particularly  did  he  oppose  anti-Semitic  feeling:  he 
thought  that  just  for  the  future  ruling  class,  Jews  had  qualities  that 
were  indispensable,  having  in  mind  especially  their  understanding  for 
finance  (ibid.,  XIII,  352,  § 872;  356-7;  cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §251). 
Even  “ nation,”  though  in  a given  case  it  may  be  more  res  facta  than  res 
nata,  seemed  to  him  a finer  conception  than  race  (Werke,  XII,  207, 
§441). 

Will  to  Poiver,  § 957. 

Werke,  XI,  376-7,  § 572. 


472 


NIETZSCHE  THE  THINKER 


contradiction  cannot  be  reconciled;  and  yet  it  may  be  that  in 
the  last  analysis  the  difference  is  between  near  and  distant 
perspectives,  between  what  is  suited  to  preparatory  stages  in 
a process  of  evolution  and  the  ultimate  issued"^  Undoubtedly 
an  organization  of  the  world  such  as  is  sometimes  contem- 
plated today  is  contrary  to  Nietzsche’s  view.  For  the  prevail- 
ing scheme  is  of  a voluntary  federation,  a consensus  of  the 
nations — all  of  them,  perhaps  even  all  the  races,  to  have  equal 
rights,  none  to  be  subordinated  to  others — in  other  words,  it 
is  based  on  democratic  principles,  to  be  applied  on  a 
grand  scale.  But  Nietzsche  does  not  recognize  equal  rights, 
whether  as  between  individuals,  or  between  classes,  or  between 
peoples.  The  greater  man,  the  greater  people,  should  rule — in 
this  way,  and  not  by  mutual  agreement,  do  organizing  force 
and  right  arise.  As  man’s  bodily  organism  is  not  the  outcome 
of  any  consensus,  but  of  the  supremacy  of  certain  parts  and 
the  subjection  of  others,  so  with  a sound  social  organism;  the 
truth  is  the  same  if  the  organism  is  eo-extensive  with  mankind 
• — the  highest  brains,  the  supreme  type  of  men  (in  body,  soul, 
and  spirit)  must  organize  the  world.  But  how,  we  ask,  are 
the  supreme  men  to  be  found  out?  Well,  how  are  the  real 
rulers  in  any  society  found  out?  As  Emerson  has  already 
told  us,  by  trial,  by  struggle  (explicit  or  implicit).  That  this 
or  that  man  is  the  victor  is  not  thc(  outcome  of  any  agree- 
ment— the  result  establishes  itself,  the  victor  proves  himself. 
Something  similar  must  go  on  among  the  nations  (at  least 
among  the  various  stocks  or  breeds — for  the  same  type  may 
be  in  different  nations,  and  it  is  this,  and  not  whether  the 
individual  instance  is  German,  English,  French,  or  Russian, 
that  is  of  moment).  In  other  words,  for  a time,  perhaps  for 
a long  time,  there  must  be  struggle,  competition.  “Competi- 
tion of  all  egos  to  find  the  thought  that  shall  stand  over  man- 
kind as  its  star” — such  is  a perspective  or  philosophy  of  his- 
tory that  Nietzsche  once  gives,'”®  at  least  of  history  as  it  should 
be  and  may  come  to  be.  “Competition  for  the  control  of  the 
power  that  mankind  represents — this  is  the  competition  to 

Cf.,  for  instance,  the  apparently  contradictory  views  as  to  the 
origin  of  the  state  (ante,  p.  448,  and  note  t). 

Werke,  XII,  360,  § 679. 


POLITICAL  VIEWS  AND  ANTICIPATIONS  473 


which  Zarathustra  calls,”  is  another  statement.^”®  Wars  for 
conceptions,  for  fundamental  philosophical  doctrines,  will  be 
the  wars  of  the  future,  i.e.,  those  that  signify  anything.^®’’  It 
follows  that  peace  between  the  different  nations  and  stocks  on 
the  earth  as  they  exist  now,  a mutual  agreement  to  live  and 
let  live,  universal  brotherhood,  is  undesirable  and  would  cut 
athwart  the  law  of  life  and  progress.^®®  Yet  in  the  end,  when, 
as  a result  of  competition  and  conflict,  those  really  fitted  to 
organize  the  world  had  proved  themselves  and  accomplished 
their  work,  a different  situation  would  arise  and  a universal 
reign  of  law  would  seem  to  be  inevitable.  I say  “in  the 
end,”  though  in  fact  there  might  be  end  beyond  end,  the 
work  of  organization  never  being  perfect,  the  completely 
ordered  world  remaining  forever  an  ideal.  In  that  case  strug- 
gle and  competition  would  ever  and  anon  arise  afresh. 

ioojVerke  (pocket  ed.),  VII,  486,  §39. 

Werke,  XII,  207,  § 441. 

Nietzsche’s  recognition  of  this  does  not  exclude  a belief  in  inter- 
national associations  of  a variety  of  kinds.  He  wished  as  many  of  them 
as  possible,  to  the  end  of  accustoming  men  to  world-perspectives  (see 
Werke,  XIII,  362,  § 891 ; cf.  ibid.,  359,  § 883,  as  to  freedom  of  travel 
enabling  groups  of  like-minded  men  to  come  together  and  found  fellow- 
ships). He  even  looked  for  a new  international  language — devised  at  the 
start  for  commercial  purposes,  then  utilizable  for  intellectual  intercourse; 
it  might  be  long  before  it  came,  but  it  was  as  certain  as  the  navigation 
of  the  air  (Human,  etc.,  § 267). 


EPILOGUE 

A distinguished  German  theologian,  Dr.  Heinrich  Weinel, 
speaks  of  Nietzsche’s  philosophy  as  “the  history  of  his  life,” 
adding,  “The  important  thing  in  the  last  instance  is  not  that 
we  refute  him — but  that  we  understand  him.  For  to  under- 
stand him  is  to  overcome  him.”^  If  any  feel  that  they  have 
been  helped  to  a better  understanding  of  Nietzsche  by  reading 
these  pages,  I shall  be  glad — whether  they  are  proportionally 
nearer  to  overcoming  him,  I leave  it  to  them  to  say. 

’ lisen,  Bjornson,  Nietzsche,  p.  143. 


474 


NOTES 


CHAPTER  I 

a There  is  this  modicum  of  truth  in  the  extravagant  statement  of 
the  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  art.  “ Nietzsche,”  “ Revolt  against  the  whole 
civilized  [sic]  environment  in  which  he  was  brought  up  is  the  keynote  of 
Nietzsche’s  literary  career.”  On  the  other  hand,  R.  M.  Meyer  finds  in  him 
a reflection  of  the  voluntaristic  tendency,  both  theoretical  and  practical, 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  “ This  is  accordingly  Nietzsche’s  point  of 
departure:  there  are  beings  who  ‘will.’  At  Descartes’  proposition,  ‘I 

think  ’ he  had  to  shrug  his  shoulders  critically.  For  not  in  vain 

is  Nietzsche  a child  of  the  time,  in  which  Treitschke  reduced  all  politics 
to  will  to  power — and  Bismarck  lived  Treitschke’s  politics.  Not  in  vain 
a child  of  the  time,  for  which  ‘willing’  was  equivalent  to  ‘willing  to 
effect,’  ‘willing  to  create’;  in  which  young  Disraeli  declared,  ‘What  I 
teach  I will  accomplish’;  in  which  men  of  force  (Kraftnaturen)  like 
Gambetta,  Lassalle,  Mazzini,  Garibaldi  had  vital  influence  on  tens  of 
thousands”  {Nietzsche,  sein  Leben  und  seine  Werke,  pp.  679-80).  Cf. 
also  August  Dorner,  Pessimismus,  Nietzsche  und  Naturalismus,  p.  191. 

t>As  to  the  political  movement  of  the  Germans,  see  pp.  466-7  of  this 
volume. 

c He  said  the  same  of  Schopenhauer,  adding,  “ The  Germans  have 
no  finger  for  us,  they  have  in  general  no  fingers,  only  paws.”  Cf.,  as 
to  his  differences  with  German  idealists,  Werke,  XIII,  337-8,  § 838. 

<J  As  to  German  soldiers,  see  the  discriminating  article  by  Julius  Bab 
in  Die  Hilfe,  December  31,  1915,  “ Friedrich  Nietzsche  und  die  deutsche 
Oegenwart.”  Stephen  Graham  is  of  the  opinion  (he  says  “sure”)  that 
“ many  British  soldiers  who  have  rifles  on  their  shoulders  today  have 
learned  of  Nietzsche  and  have  a warm  place  in  their  hearts  for  him” 
{Russia  and  the  World,  1915,  p.  138). 

e Havelock  Ellis  and  the  late  William  Wallace  published  valuable 
short  studies  of  Nietzsche  at  an  early  date. 

f Cf.  Karl  Joel,  Nietzsche  und  die  Romantik,  p.  328 ; Henri  Lichten- 
berger.  La  Philosophie  de  Nietzsche,  pp.  83  ff.;  R.  Richter,  Friedrich 
Nietzsche,  sein  Leben  und  sein  Werk  (2d  ed.),  pp.  91  ff.;  H.  Vaihinger, 
Nietzsche  als  Philosoph,  p.  16;  Ernst  Horneffer,  Nietzsches  letztes 
Schaffen,  p.  20;  August  Dorner,  op.  cit.,  pp.  118,  122  n.;  R.  H.  Griitz- 
macher,  Nietzsche,  ein  akademisches  Publikum,  pp.  49-52;  H.  Hoffding, 
Moderne  Philosophen,  p.  145;  R.  M.  Meyer,  op.  cit.,  passim.  For  an 
instance  of  arbitrary  judgment  in  the  matter,  see  George  Saintsbury’s 
The  Later  Nineteenth  Century,  p.  244 ; History  of  Criticism,  pp.  582-4. 
Houston  Stewart  Chamberlain  {Die  Grundlagen  des  neunzehnten  Jahr- 
hunderts,  I,  xxv)  even  says  that  Nietzsche  became  a victim  of  madness, 
when  he  fell  away  from  Wagner!  More  reasonable,  or  at  least  reasoned, 
conjectures  appear  in  Theobald  Ziegler’s  Friedrich  Nietzsche,  p.  20,  and 
P.  J.  Mobius’  Nietzsche,  passim.  On  the  other  hand,  William  Wallace 
and  Havelock  Ellis  saw  the  facts  as  they  were  at  the  outset.  A state- 
ment of  Julius  Kaftan,  a not  over-friendly  critic  who  was  with  Nietzsche 
in  Sils-Maria  for  three  weeks  in  the  late  summer  of  1888,  is  interesting: 
“ I have  during  the  whole  time  never  perceived  any  trace  whatever  of 
an  incipient  mental  derangement.”  At  the  same  time,  Nietzsche  himself 
appears  to  have  had  a foreboding  at  times  of  some  sort  of  a collapse, 

475 


476 


NOTES 


writing  once  to  a friend,  “ The  fearful  and  almost  unceasing  sufferings 
of  my  life  allow  me  to  long  for  the  end,  and  according  to  some  indications 
the  stroke  of  the  brain  that  will  release  me  {der  erlosende  Hirnschlag) 
is  near  enough  to  warrant  my  hope.  So  far  as  torture  and  renunciation 
are  concerned,  I may  measure  the  life  of  my  last  years  with  that  of  any 
ascetic  of  any  time”  (I  am  unable  to  locate  this  letter,  and  borrow  the 
quotation  from  Richard  Beyer,  Nietzsches  Versuch  einer  Vmwerthung 
alter  Werthe,  pp.  34-5). 

B Havelock  Ellis  {Affirmations,  p.  11)  quotes  this.  Some  years  later 
(1876),  ^Idouard  Schur6  saw  him  in  Bayreuth  and  describes  his  impres- 
sion as  follows:  “In  talking  with  him  I was  struek  by  the  superiority 
of  his  intellect  and  by  the  strangeness  of  his  physiognomy.  A broad 
forehead,  short  hair  brushed  back,  the  prominent  cheekbones  of  the  Slav. 
The  heavy,  drooping  mustache  and  the  bold  cut  of  the  face  would  have 
given  him  the  aspect  of  a cavalry  officer,  if  there  had  not  been  something 
at  once  timid  and  haughty  in  his  air.  The  musical  voice  and  slow  speech 
indicated  the  artist’s  organization,  while  the  circumspect  meditative  car- 
riage was  that  of  a philosopher.  Nothing  more  deceptive  than  the  ap- 
parent calm  of  his  expression.  The  fixed  eye  revealed  the  painful  travail 
of  thought.  It  was  at  once  the  eye  of  an  acute  observer  and  of  a fanatical 
visionary.  The  double  character  of  the  gaze  produced  a disquieted  and 
disquieting  expression,  all  the  more  so  since  it  seemed  to  be  always  fixed 
on  a single  point.  In  moments  of  effusion  the  gaze  was  softened  to  a 
dream-like  sweetness,  but  soon  became  hostile  again.  His  whole  appear- 
ance had  the  distant  air,  the  discreet  and  veiled  disdain  which  often 
characterizes  aristocrats  of  thought”  (Revue  des  deux  mondes,  August  15, 
1895,  pp.  782-3). 

It  is  Nietzsche’s  own  story,  as  narrated  by  P.  Deussen,  Erin- 
nerungen  an  F.  Nietzsche,  p.  24. 

‘ Cf.  Miibius,  op.  cit.,  p.  50.  See,  however,  R.  H.  Griitzmacher,  op. 
cit.,  pp.  16,  17.  R.  Freiherr  von  Seydlitz,  who  knew  Nietzsche  well, 
says,  “ One  thing  was  lacking  in  him  which  accompanies  the  ‘ great 
man  ’ as  ordinarily  understood : he  had  no  dark,  ignoble  sides  to  his 
nature — not  even  ‘sensual  coarseness’”  (Der  neue  deutsche  Rundschau, 
June,  1899,  p.  627 ) . 

3 H.  L.  Mencken  says  that  Nietzsche  “fell  in  love”  with  Fraulein 
Lou  Salom6,  and  “ pursued  her  over  half  of  Europe  when  she  fled  ” ( The 
Philosophy  of  Friedrich  Nietzsche,  p.  42 ) . Both  of  these  statements  are 
exaggerations.  Meyer,  the  best  all-round  authority  on  Nietzsche,  remarks 
that  there  is  no  indication  of  warmer  feelings  in  the  case  than  those  of 
friendship,  and  that  Nietzsche  thought  of  her  rather  as  a wife  for  his 
friend  Paul  Ree  (op.  cit.,  p.  168).  Nietzsche  did  once  (spring  of  1876) 
make  an  offer  of  marriage  to  a young  Dutch  woman,  but  she  was  already 
engaged  (the  letters  are  given  by  Meyer,  op.  cit.,  156-9).  See  further  a 
summary  of  Nietzsche’s  various  views,  and  half-formed  wishes,  on  the 
subject  of  marriage  for  himself,  by  Richter,  op.  cit.,  p.  59. 

I have  to  borrow  here  from  Riehl,  op.  cit.,  p.  23.  Cf.  the  apt 
remarks  of  A.  Wolf,  The  Philosophy  of  Nietzsche,  p.  23. 

' Meyer  ascribes  it  in  part  to  the  influence  of  R^e  (op.  cit.,  p.  153 — 
cf.  the  fuller  discussion  of  the  subject,  pp.  ‘295-300,  where  Meyer  ques- 
tions the  inference  often  drawn  that  Nietzsche  was  naturally  unsys- 
tematic ) . 

m So  in  a letter  to  Georg  Brandes,  April  10,  1888,  referring  to  some 
unspecified  year  in  the  past.  Meyer  (op.  cit.,  p.  161)  says  that  there 
were  118  sick  days  in  1879.  After  the  autumn  of  1881,  Nietzsche  did 
better — for  in  1888  he  said  that  in  the  previous  six  years  he  had  never  had 
during  each  year  less  than  five  or  more  than  fifteen  bad  days  (so  his 
sister,  Werlce,  pocket  ed.,  VI,  xxviii). 


NOTES 


477 


CHAPTER  II 

a So  Mobius,  op.  cit.,  p.  28;  Ziegler,  op.  cit.,  p.  113. 
b What  Nietzsche  thought  of  style  is  hinted  at  in  his  remark  that 
the  only  way  to  improve  one’s  style  is  to  improve  one’s  thought  (The 
Wanderer  etc.,  §131;  cf.  Meyer’s  admirable  remarks,  op.  cit.,  p.  628). 
At  the  same  time,  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  had  fine  feeling  in  this 
direction.  Joel  compares  him  with  Goethe,  finding  him  greater  in  so 
far  as  he  is  more  conscious — Goethe’s  style  flowing  like  nature,  Nietzsche’s 
being  more  art  (op.  cit.,  pp.  359-61).  Even  Saintsbury,  after  referring 
to  Nietzsche’s  mention  of  Leopardi,  Emerson,  Merim4e,  and  Landor  as 
the  four  masters  of  prose  in  the  nineteenth  century,  says  that  he  is  to 
be  put  along  with  them  (op.  cit.,  p.  245).  Nietzsche’s  style — in  one 
particular,  at  least — might  be  described  as  seductive,  like  Newman’s  in 
the  Apologia  and  many  of  the  Sermons:  for  the  moment  at  least  you 
would  like  to  believe  what  he  says.  On  the  other  hand,  Meyer  notes  his 
occasional  slips  and  negligences  of  style,  and  the  tastelessness  of  some 
of  the  word-constructions  in  Zarathustra  (op.  cit.,  pp.  624,  416). 

e Cf.  Rudolph  Eisler,  Nietzsches  Erkenntnisstheorie  und  Metaphysik ; 
Friedrich  Rittelmeyer,  Friedrich  Nietzsche  und  das  Erkenntnissproblem ; 
Siegbert  Flemming,  Nietzsches  Metaphysik  und  ihr  Verhdltniss  zu 
Erkenntnisstheorie  und  Ethik;  also  special  articles,  such  as  “ Friedrich 
Nietzsches  Erkenntnisstheorie,”  by  P.  Mauritius  Demuth,  Philosophisches 
Jahrbuch  (Gorres-Gesellscbaft),  October,  1913.  Rene  Bertbelot  makes  an 
extended  critical  examination  of  Nietzsche’s  theory  of  knowledge  in  Vn 
romantisme  utilitaire,  Vol.  I,  pp.  33-193. 

d Cf.  Meyer’s  view,  op.  cit.,  pp.  293,  298,  306,  378,  and  Ziegler’s 
(“more  thinker  than  poet”),  op.  cit.,  p.  21.  On  the  other  hand,  Heinrich 
Weinel  says,  “ Whoever  allows  himself  to  be  persuaded  that  he  [Nietzsche] 
is  a man  of  strict  science  will  observe  with  astonishment  how  easy  to 
refute  Nietzsche  is,  how  full  of  leaps  and  contradictions  his  thinking  is, 
even  when  one  clearly  separates  the  epochs  of  his  activity”  (Ibsen, 
Bjbrnson,  Nietzsche,  pp.  13,  14).  Similarly,  Oswald  Kiilpe,  “The  sterner 
philosophical  disciplines,  such  as  logic  and  the  theory  of  knowledge, 
Nietzsche  touched  upon  only  casually,  and  never  gave  himself  up  to  their 
problems  with  original  interest;  and  in  the  other  branches,  which  he 
liked  to  cultivate,  such  as  metaphysics  and  ethics,  he  has  no  exact  results 
to  offer.  We  cannot,  therefore,  call  him  a philosopher”  (Philosophy  of 
the  Present  in  Germany,  p.  128).  It  must  be  freely  conceded  that  Nietz- 
sche gives  us  little  in  the  form  of  strict  science,  also  that  he  published 
“no  exact  results”;  whether  this  prevents  his  being  a substantially  con- 
sistent thinker  with  a tolerably  definite  outcome  of  thought,  is  another 
question. 

eA.  K.  Rogers  strangely  misconceives  Nietzsche  at  this  point  (Phi- 
losophical Review,  January,  1912,  p.  39). 

f So  Kurt  Breysig,  Jahrbuch  fiir  Gesetzgebung,  II  (1896),  p.  20; 
contrast  Meyer’s  explanations,  op.  cit.,  p.  448. 

s Cf.  Paul  Lanzky’s  account  of  Nietzsche’s  habits,  as  given  in  D. 
Halevy’s  La  Vie  de  Frederic  Nietzsche,  p.  305. 

CHAPTER  III 

a Among  philologists  he  refers  to  the  “ renowned  Lobeck  ” in  par- 
ticular. His  own  view  of  Dionysus  is  set  forth  in  The  Birth  of  Tragedy, 
and  he  notes  that  Burckhardt,  whom  he  calls  the  profoundest  connoisseur 
(Kenner)  of  Greek  culture  then  living,  afterwards  added  to  his  Cultur  der 
Griechen  [the  published  title  is  Griechische  Kulturgeschichte]  a section 


478 


NOTES 


on  the  phenomenon,  with  the  implication  that  Burckhardt  had  been  more 
or  less  influenced  by  him.  I may  add  that  Nietzsche’s  intimate  friend, 
with  whom,  however,  he  eventually  had  a falling  out,  Erwin  Rohde,  de- 
veloped a similar  view,  with  great  wealth  of  scholarly  detail  in  his  Psyche, 
published  after  Nietzsche’s  collapse  and  with  no  reference  to  him. 

b See  North  American  Review,  August,  1915,  p.  202;  cf.  letters  to 
Deussen  and  Peter  Gast,  Brief e,  I,  536;  IV,  426. 

c See  Freiherr  von  Seydlitz’s  article,  Neue  deutsche  Rundschau,  June, 
1899,  p.  622. 

d Cf.  Lou  Andreas-Salom6  (Friedrich  Nietzsche  in  seinen  Werlcen,  p. 
16)  on  loneliness  and  suffering  as  two  great  features  of  Nietzsche’s 
destiny,  which  became  more  strongly  marked  as  he  approached  his  end,  and 
were  at  once  a necessity  and  a choice.  On  his  early  loneliness,  see  letters 
to  Erwin  Rohde  from  Leipzig  and  Basel  (1869),  Brief e,  II,  135,  156. 

e Cf.  the  lines  from  “ Aus  hohen  Bergen,”  appended  to  Beyond  Good 
and  Evil; 

“ Ihr  alten  Freunde!  Seht!  Nun  blickt  ihr  bleich, 

Voll  LieV  und  Grausen! 

Nein,  geht ! Zurnt  nicht ! Hier — konntet  ihr  nicht  hausen; 
flier  zwischen  fernsten  Eis-  und  Felsenreich — 

Hier  muss  man  Jdger  sein  und  gemsengleich.” 
f Nietzsche’s  wish  to  communicate  himself,  to  be  heard  (if  not  for 
disciples  in  the  literal  sense)  appears  in  Werke,  XIV,  355-6,  381,  393. 
He  even  expresses  a wish  for  disciples  in  a letter  to  Peter  Gast,  August  26, 
1883,  and  speaks  of  his  writings  as  bait  which  he  had  used  to  this  end 
His  longing  for  friends,  who  should  really  share  his  thoughts,  is  touch- 
ingly evidenced  in  “ Aus  hohen  Bergen,”  appended  to  Beyond  Good  and 
Evil. 

e Nietzsche  says  (in  a letter  to  Brandes,  November  29,  1888),  that  he 
writes  in  Ecce  Homo  with  “Gynismus” — i.e.,  cold-blooded  indifference  to 
what  others  will  think  of  him.  He  also  says  (to  Gast,  November  26,  1888) 
that  the  book  is  full  of  jokes  and  malice  (reich  an  Scherzen  und 
Bosheiten) . 

b At  this  point  Emily  Hamblen  is  mistaken  in  her  excellent  little 
book,  Friedrich  Nietzsche  and  his  New  Gospel,  p.  11.  It  is  the  general 
impression — cf.  A.  G.  Gardiner,  “ In  the  end  Nietzsche  became  his  own 
Superman.  His  autobiographical  Ecce  Homo  was  a grotesque  exaltation 
of  his  own  achievements,  etc.”  ( The  War  Lords,  p.  257 ) . 

» I omit  discussion  of  the  claims  about  his  books,  his  style,  his  dis- 
covery of  the  significance  of  Dionysus  in  Greek  life  and  the  meaning  of 
the  tragic — also  about  himself  as  a psychologist  and  the  moral  quality 
of  his  thinking.  To  consider  some  of  them  to  any  purpose  would  require 
more  knowledge  than  I possess.  As  to  Ecce  Homo,  the  reader  will  consult 
profitably  Raoul  Richter’s  chapter,  “ Nietzsche’s  Ecce  Homo,  ein  Dokument 
der  Selbsterkenntniss  und  Selbstverkenntniss,”  in  his  Essays. 

3 The  present  war  show's  perhaps  nothing  more  clearly  than  that 
national  or  racial  feelings  are  now  the  dominant  ones  in  mankind — a 
human  aim  does  not  yet  exist  (cf.,  on  this  point,  later,  p.  344). 

k A translation  of  Brandes’  early  epoch-making  essay,  “ Aristocratic 
Radicalism”  (1889),  appears  with  other  matter  in  a volume,  Friedrich 
Nietzsche  (London  and  New  York,  1914).  Karl  Joel  seems  to  leave  out 
of  account  these  constant  ideas  or  tendencies  in  speaking  of  Nietzsche’s 
impulse  to  change  in  the  way  he  does  (op.  cit.,  pp.  169,  320,  329).  I may 
add  that  Lou  Andreas-Salomg  finds  as  constant  his  views  on  (or  at  least 
his  sense  of  problems  as  to)  the  Dionysiac,  decadence,  the  unseasonable 
(TJnzeitgemiiss) , and  the  culture  of  genius. 

•See  letter  to  Brandes,  Brief e.  III,  322;  Werke,  327,  § 800.  Cf.  Ecce 
Homo,  II,  §3;  The  Antichristian,  §5.  A special  monograph,  “Pascal 


NOTES  479 

et  Nietzsche,”  by  Henry  Bauer,  with  an  introduction  by  Henri  Lichtwi- 
berger,  appeared  in  the  Revue  Germanique,  January,  1914. 


CHAPTER  IV 

a Cf.  Ludwig  Stein,  Deutsche  Rundschau,  March,  1893,  p.  402;  M.  A. 
Mugge,  Nietzsche,  His  Life  and  Works,  ix;  Nietzsche’s  Werke  (pocket 
ed.).  Ill,  XIV. 

b So  Lou  Andreas-Salome,  op.  cit.,  p.  8. 

c All  is  contained  in  Vols.  I,  IX,  X of  the  8vo  ed.  and  the  greater 
part  in  Vols.  I,  II,  of  the  pocket  ed.  As  to  the  mental  history  of 
Nietzsche  before  the  date  of  The  Birth  of  Tragedy,  see  E.  Windrath’s 
Friedrich  Nietzsches  geistige  Enticicklung  bis  zur  Entstehung  der  Geburt 
der  Tragbdie  (Beilage  zum  Jahresbericht,  1912-3,  des  H.  Herz  Gymnasium, 
Hamburg,  1913). 

d “ Philosophy  in  the  Tragic  Period  of  the  Greeks,”  sect.  3 ; cf . a 
later  remark.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 244.  Nietzsche  once  puts  it  strongly,  “ An 
indiscriminate  impulse  for  knowledge  is  like  an  indiscriminate  sexual 
impulse — a sign  of  commonness”! 

® He  uses  the  terms  “ Richter,”  “ Gesetzgeber,”  “ Wertmesser  ” — cf. 
“ Schopenhauer  as  Educator,”  sects.  3 and  6.  Later  we  shall  find  him 
conjecturing  that  the  original  meaning  of  “ Mensch  ” was  “ one  who 
measures.” 

f“  Philosophy  in  the  Tragic  Period  etc.,”  sect.  3.  Cf.  an  implied 
definition  in  Human,  All-too-Human,  § 436,  “ one  who  has  chosen  for  his 
task  the  most  general  knowledge  and  the  valuation  of  existence  as  a 
whole.”  Later,  when  he  comes  to  read  existence  in  terms  of  change  and 
becoming,  he  defines  philosophy  as  “ the  most  general  form  of  history,  as 
an  attempt  to  describe  somehow  the  Heraclitean  becoming  and  to  ab- 
breviate it  in  sign-language,  to  translate  it,  as  it  were,  into  a sort  of 
ostensible  being  and  give  it  a name”  (quoted  by  Meyer,  op.  cit.,  pp.  579, 
580 ) . Nietzsche  remarks,  “ To  make  philosophy  purely  a matter  of 
science  (like  Trendelenburg)  is  to  throw  the  musket  into  the  corn-field” 
( Werke,  X,  299,  § 55 ) . 

e Cf.  the  manner  in  which  the  philosopher,  and  Heraclitus  in  par- 
ticular, are  spoken  of,  “ Philosophy  in  the  Tragic  Period  etc.,”  sect.  8 ; 
note  also  the  tone  of  Werke,  X,  299,  § 56. 

b The  “ horrible  ( entsetzliche ) struggle  for  existence  ” is  often  re- 
ferred to;  cf.  Werke,  IX,  146.  See  Horner’s  general  representation  of 
Nietzsche’s  view  on  this  point  (op.  cit.,  189-91). 

•Cf.  Birth  of  Tragedy,  sect.  16  (“eternal  life”),  sect.  17  (“another 
world”),  sect.  21  (“another  being”);  “Schopenhauer  as  Educator,” 
sect.  5 ( “ something  beyond  our  individual  existence  ” ) . I have  elaborated 
this  view  and  some  of  its  consequences  in  an  article,  “ An  Introductory 
Word  on  Nietzsche,”  Harvard  Theological  Review,  October,  1913. 

j He  dissents  from  the  view  of  Socrates  and  the  rationalism  that 
followed  in  his  wake,  proceeding  as  it  did  on  the  theory  that  man  can  not 
only  know,  but  can  correct  existence  (Birth  of  Tragedy,  sect.  15;  cf.  the 
interpretation  of  Hamlet’s  inability  to  act,  sect.  7)  ; he  also  remarks  on 
the  unfortunate  consequences  in  modern  times  of  the  idea  that  all  may  be 
happy  on  the  earth  (sect.  18),  and  says  in  speaking  of  the  effort  to  help 
out  nature  and  correct  the  rule  of  folly  and  mischance,  “ It  is,  to  be  sure, 
a striving  that  leads  to  deep  and  heartfelt  resignation,  for  what  and 
how  much  can  be  bettered,  whether  in  particular  or  in  genei'al!  ” (“  Scho- 
penhauer as  Educator,”  sect.  3 ) . 

Cf.  a memorandum,  “ When  Friedrich  August  Wolf  asserted  the 


480 


NOTES 


necessity  of  slavery  in  the  interests  of  a culture,  it  was  one  of  the  strong 
thoughts  of  my  great  predecessor,  which  others  are  too  feeble  to  lay  hold 
of”  (Werke,  IX,  268,  § 216). 

■ That  genuine  art  does  not  spring  from  instincts  for  luxury,  and 
that  a new  birth  of  it  in  the  modern  world  is  to  be  expected  rather  from 
a society  freed  from  luxury,  is  asserted  in  Werke,  X,  459,  § 367  (here 
Nietzsche  refers  to  the  idea  of  the  curse  of  gold  which  underlies  Wagner’s 
“Ring  of  the  Nibelungen  ” ) , Art  undergoes  degeneration  when  it  is  a 
means  of  diversion  simply  (Birth  of  Tragedy,  sects.  22,  24).  Nietzsche 
draws  a satirical  picture  of  the  modern  arts  and  of  the  society  that  calls 
for  them,  in  “ Richard  Wagner  at  Bayreuth,”  sect.  8.  All  the  same  he 
admits  that  art  is  not  for  the  time  of  actual  struggle  (ibid.,  sect.  4). 

m C.  W.  Super,  International  Journal  of  Ethics,  January,  1913,  p.  178. 

nThis  in  lectures  at  Basel,  as  reported  by  Malwida  von  Meysenbug, 
Der  Lebensabend  einer  Idealisten,  p.  50. 

oA  later  observation  of  Nietzsche’s  is  of  interest  in  this  connection: 
“Perhaps  I know  best  why  it  is  man  alone  who  laughs;  he  alone  suffers 
so  deeply  that  he  had  to  invent  laughter.  The  most  unhappy  and  melan- 
choly animal  is,  as  is  reasonable,  the  cheerfullest  ” (Will  to  Power,  §91). 
Nietzsche  thinks  that  the  current  impression  of  Greek  cheerfulness  comes 
largely  by  way  of  Christianity,  which  encountered  a decadent  Greece  and 
was  offended  by  its  lightness  and  superficiality.  This  kind  of  “ cheer- 
fulness,” however,  was  a poor  counterpart  to  the  high  serenity  of  men 
like  ^schylus,  and  the  determining  influence  in  it  was  the  masses,  or 
old-time  slaves,  who  wished  for  little  else  than  enjoyment  and  felt  no 
responsibilities,  being  without  either  great  memories  or  great  hopes 
(Birth  of  Tragedy,  sect.  11).  The  great  epoch  of  Greece  to  Nietzsche’s 
mind  was  from  Hesiod  to  Hischylus  (see  Joel’s  discussion  of  the  subject 
in  op.  cit.,  pp.  297-315).  In  English  the  general  view  of  Nietzsche  and 
Burckhardt  finds  expression  in  W.  L.  Courtney’s  The  Idea  of  Tragedy 
(1900).  There  are  echoes  of  Burckhardt’s  view  in  W.  G.  Sumner’s  Folk- 
ways, pp.  104-5. 

p Nietzsche  remarks  on  the  contrast  between  a chorus  of  Apollo,  in 
which  the  maidens  preserve  their  separate  identity  and  keep  their  civil 
names,  and  a dithyrambic  chorus  of  Dionysus,  in  which  each  one’s  civic 
connection  and  social  position  are  entirely  forgotten  (Birth  of  Tragedy, 
sect.  8 ) . 

a See  the  wonderful  description,  half  picture  and  half  interpretation, 
of  the  Dionysus  festival  (Birth  of  Tragedy,  close  of  sect.  1);  cf.  Erwin 
Rohde’s  Psyche,  II,  17  n. 

r Cf.,  in  this  connection,  Walter  Pater,  Greek  Studies,  pp.  41-3,  36; 
Erwin  Rohde,  op.  cit.,  II,  116  n.;  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  9th  ed.,  art. 
“Dionysus”;  J.  A.  Symonds,  The  Greek  Poets.  II,  145-6. 

3 Rites  and  ceremonies  which  we  should  regard  as  coming  under  the 
head  of  sexual  excesses  seem  to  have  characterized  the  beginnings  of  the 
Dionysus  worship  in  Greece,  as  they  did  the  celebrations  in  oriental 
countries  from  which  the  worship  originally  came;  but  in  time  the  Greek 
worship  became  a more  chastened  thing. 

t Birth  of  Tragedy,  beginning  of  sect.  17.  Nietzsche  thinks  that  this 
Dionysiac  experience  has  been  widespread  in  the  world  (though  of  course 
under  other  names),  that  in  the  German  Middle  Ages  singing  and  dancing 
crowds  ever  increasing  in  number  were  borne  from  place  to  place  under 
the  same  impulse  (the  St.  John’s  and  St.  Vitus’  dancers  being  kindred 
to  the  Bacchic  choruses  of  the  Greeks),  that  the  phenomena  can  be  traced 
back  as  far  as  Babylon  and  the  orgiastic  Sacaea — and  he  adds,  with 
reference  to  those  who  dismiss  them  as  “ folk-diseases  ” with  a smile  of 
contempt  or  pity  prompted  by  a consciousness  of  their  own  superior 
health,  that  they  do  not  surmise  what  a cadaverous  and  ghostly  aspect 


NOTES 


481 


their  very  “ health  ” presents,  when  the  glowing  light  of  the  Dionysian 
revelers  rushes  past  them  ( ihid.,  sect.  1 ) . 

u Nietzsche  even  says  that  from  the  nature  of  art  as  ordinarily  con- 
ceived (Apollinic  art),  tragic  art  cannot  be  honestly  derived,  the  pleasure 
connected  with  the  latter  being  pleasure  in  the  annihilation  of  beautiful 
forms,  even  the  fairest,  while  Apollinic  art  strives  (by  its  appropriate 
means,  picture  and  story)  to  eternalize  them.  Tragedy  and  music  alike 
are  born  of  another  realm.  See  The  Birth  of  Tragedy,  sects.  16  and  25. 
Meyer  remarks  that  it  is  doubtful  whether  Dionysus  can  be  described  as 
a “ Kunstgott  ” I “he  became  that  first  for  Nietzsche”  (op.  cit.,  p.  248). 

T Nietzsche  draws  attention  to  Euripides’  description  in  the  “ Bacchse  ” 
of  Archilochus  (the  first  lyric,  as  contrasted  to  epic,  poet  among  the 
Greeks),  who,  a drunken  reveler,  sinks  down  and  falls  asleep  on  the 
high  mountains  under  the  midday  sun,  when  the  dream-god  comes  to 
him  and  touches  him  with  the  laurel — as  if  to  show  that  the  lyric  (i.e., 
essentially  Dionysiac)  outpourings  of  love  and  hate,  though  so  different; 
from  the  calm  and  measured  movements  of  epic  art,  may  yet  win 
Apollinic  consecration  (Birth  of  Tragedy,  sect.  5). 

w This  particularly  holds  of  the  first  great  tragic  dramatist, 
.iEschylus.  As  to  the  ancient  view  of  Aeschylus  as  Dionysus-inspired 
(the  view,  e.g.,  of  Pausanias,  Athenaeus,  and  Quintilian),  see  Symonds, 
op.  cit.,  I,  373-4.  Plato  regarded  poetic  inspiration  as  akin  to  madness 
(“  Phaedrus  ”)  ; “all  good  poets  compose  their  beautiful  poems  not  as 
works  of  art,  but  because  they  are  inspired  and  possessed”  (“Ion”), 
the  analogy  in  “ Ion  ” being  the  behavior  of  Bacchantes  under  the  influence 
of  Dionysus.  Symonds  cites  the  phrase  “ con  furie,”  with  which  Italians 
sometimes  describe  the  manner  of  production  of  a Tintoretto  or  a Michael 
Angelo  (op.  cit.,  II,  394-5). 

^ Nietzsche  remarks  on  the  different  type  of  language  used  by  the 
characters  in  the  dialogue  from  that  of  the  chorus — it  is  clear,  firm, 
almost  like  that  of  Homer,  i.e.,  Apollinic,  not  turgid,  glowing,  Dionysiac 
(Birth  of  Tragedy,  end  of  sect.  8).  Symonds  appears  to  note  the  same 
contrast  (without  giving  it  this  interpretation),  in  saying,  “When  the 
Athenians  developed  tragedy,  they  wrote  their  iambics  in  pure  Attic,  but 
they  preserved  a Dorian  tone  in  their  choruses”  (op.  cit.,  I,  305). 


CHAPTER  V 

a “Matter  itself  is  only  given  as  sensation”  (Werke,  1st  ed.,  X,  429)  ; 
this  after  saying  that  the  development  of  matter  into  a thinking  subject 
is  “ impossible.”  Cf.  the  comment  on  Democritus’  “ enormous  petitio 
principii”  (ibid.,  X,  114).  I cannot  locate  these  passages  in  the  second 
edition  of  the  Werke,  from  which  I ordinarily  quote. 

ti  It  is  not  contradictory  to  this  when  Nietzsche  speaks,  as  he  some- 
times does,  of  picturing  (vorstellen)  as  an  action  of  the  brain — this  is 
merely  a part  of  the  ordinary  empirical  view  of  things;  cf.  the  guarded 
language  as  to  Anaxagoras,  in  “ Philosophy  in  the  Tragic  Period  etc.,” 
sect.  15,  and  also  the  express  statement,  “The  sensation  is  not  the  result 
of  the  cell,  but  the  cell  is  the  result  of  the  sensation,  i.e.,  an  artistic 
projection,  an  image”  (Werke,  IX,  194). 

<=  I have  indicated  some  of  the  main  points  of  Schopenhauer’s  meta- 
physics in  the  following  articles:  “Schopenhauer’s  Type  of  Idealism” 
(The  Monist,  January,  1911),  “ Schopenhauer’s  Contact  with  Pragmatism” 
(Philosophical  Review,  March,  1910),  “Schopenhauer’s  Contact  with 
Theology”  (Harvard  Theological  Review,  July,  1911). 

<J  Nietzsche  speaks  of  the  “TJr-Einen”  repeatedly  in  The  Birth  of 
Tragedy;  the  subjectivity  of  time  and  space,  hence  of  succession  and 


482 


NOTES 


number,  is  also  asserted  in  “ On  Truth  and  Falsehood  in  the  Extra -moral 
Sense”  (Werkc,  X,  201-2). 

eThe  feeling  comes  to  expression  repeatedly  in  The  Birth  of  Tragedy; 
also  in  “ Schopenhauer  as  Educator,”  and  “ Richard  Wagner  in  Bayreuth.” 

f This  view  makes  the  background  of  The  Birth  of  Tragedy  ( see  par- 
ticularly sects.  4 and  5).  Cf.  also  Werke,  IX,  192-4;  XII,  169,  § 349; 
and  the  “ Attempt  at  Self-criticism,”  prefixed  to  the  later  edition  of  The 
Birth  of  Tragedy.  Nietzsche  appears  to  think  that  the  World-Will  projects 
space  and  time  with  the  picture,  so  that  these  forms  are  not,  strictly 
speaking,  merely  our  own  (cf.  an  express  remark,  Werke,  IX,  107,  §64). 
As  stated  in  the  quotation  made  in  the  text,  we  may  divine  our  real  nature 
as  projections  of  the  World-Will,  figures  in  his  dream,  but  it  is  no  more 
necessary  that  we  should  do  so,  than  that  the  painted  warriors  on  a 
canvas  should  be  conscious  of  the  battle  in  which  they  there  take  part 
(Birth  of  Tragedy,  end  of  sect.  5).  It  appears  that  Nietzsche  had  specu- 
lative moods  even  as  a boy.  “ At  the  age  of  twelve,  I thought  out  for 
myself  a wonderful  Trinity:  namely,  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and 
God  the  Devil.  My  reasoning  was  that  God,  thinking  of  himself,  created  tue 
second  person  of  the  God-head;  but  that,  in  order  to  be  able  to  think  of 
himself,  he  had  to  think  of  his  antithesis,  and  so  create  him. — In  this 
way,  I began  philosophizing”  (Werke,  XIV,  347,  §201). 

e Since  though  the  world  is  a picture,  not  a reality,  and  has  only  an 
illusory  being  (Schein),  like  figures  in  a dream,  it  springs  from  the 
deepest  need  of  its  Creator  as  a suffering  being,  Nietzsche  finds  the  will 
to  illusion  deeper,  “more  metaphysical,”  than  the  will  to  truth;  it  is, 
indeed,  just  the  truth  or  reality  (i.e.,  itself)  that  the  World-Will  wants 
to  get  away  from  (and  does  get  away  from  in  turning  itself  into  a picture 
to  contemplate).  And  it  is  the  same  desire  for  an  illusory  picture-world 
that  gives  birth,  he  holds,  to  art  in  man  (see  the  “Preface  to  Richard 
Wagner  ” prefixed  to  The  Birth  of  Tragedy,  where  art  is  called  the  “ true 
metaphysical  activity  of  life”).  The  will  to  truth  comes  thus  to  be  in 
a way  anti-natural:  “to  will  to  know,  when  it  is  just  illusion  that  is 
the  redemptive  thing  (die  Erldsung) — what  an  inversion”!  See  Werke, 
XIV,  366,  § 236;  369,  § 240  (these  being  later  comments  on  The  Birth 
of  Tragedy).  Not  only  is  it  naive  to  think  that  we  can  get  out  of  the 
world  of  illusion,  but,  if  it  were  possible,  the  escape  would  be  undesirable: 
life  in  illusion  is  the  goal.  Nietzsche  accordingly  calls  his  philosophy 
an  inverted  Platonism — the  further  we  get  from  real  being,  the  better, 
fairer,  purer  (Werke,  IX,  109,  § 168;  X,  160,  § 126;  IX,  190,  § 133). 

Cf.  the  striking  language  of  C.  J.  Keyser,  “ Not  in  the  ground  of 
need,  not  in  bent  and  painful  toil,  but  in  the  deep-centered  play-instinct 
of  the  world,  in  the  joyous  mood  of  the  eternal  Being,  which  is  always 
young,  science  has  her  origin  and  root”  (“Mathematics,”  a pamphlet). 
The  peculiarity  of  Nietzsche’s  view  is  that  he  assigns  a motive  to  the 
play,  viz.,  dissatisfaction  and  pain.  The  idea  of  the  world  as  a dream 
or  play  or  game,  and  of  ourselves  as  figures  or  players  in  it  (cf.  Werke, 
XIII,  207,  §471;  282,  § 685)  appears  also  in  J.  H.  Newman’s  Parochial 
and  Plain  Sermons,  Vol.  IV,  p.  221.  Newman,  however,  distinguished 
“ our  real  eternal  existence  ” from  this  temporal  form,  while  to  Nietzsche, 
as  to  Schopenhauer,  “ real  eternal  existence  ” belongs  to  the  “ World- 
Will  ” alone. 

i I confess  that  I can  make  no  sense  out  of  such  a view.  The  thought 
of  pain  is  of  course  dilferent  from  pain  itself  (as  different  as  any 
thought  is  from  an  experience),  but  that  pain  may  be  in  itself  something 
different  from  what  we  feel  is  to  me  a proposition  without  meaning — 
pain  is  feeling  and  nothing  else  (M'hich  is  not  saying  that  it  may  not 
have  physiological  or  other  conditions,  which  are  not  pain).  Cf.  William 
James,  “ No  one  pretends  that  pain  as  such  only  appears  like  pain,  but 


NOTES 


483 


in  itself  is  different,  for  to  be  as  a mental  experience  is  only  to  appear 
to  some  one”  (A  Pluralistic  Universe,  p.  198;  as  to  feeling  in  general, 
see  his  Some  Problems  of  Philosophy,  p.  151).  One  may  question  whether 
Nietzsche’s  view  was  not  a logical  inference  rather  than  a direct  ob- 
servation. 

3 The  fragment  appears  in  Nietzsche’s  Brief e,  I,  343  ff.  Cf.  the  letters 
to  von  Gersdorff  (1866),  ibid.,  p.  49;  to  Paul  Deussen,  ibid.,  p.  101;  and 
Richter’s  general  account  of  the  matter,  op.  cit.,  pp.  152-3;  also  Richter’s 
reference  to  the  subject  in  his  Der  Skepticismus  in  der  Philosophie,  II, 
463-4. 

k Friedrich  Rittelmeyer  thinks  that  Nietzsche  continued  to  hold  to 
the  main  points  of  the  Schopenhauerian  metaphysics  for  five  years  after 
the  “ Critique  of  the  Schopenhauerian  Philosophy,”  his  criticism  being 
directed  only  to  details  (Friedrich  Nietzsche  und  das  Erkenntnissproblem, 
pp.  7,  8). 

1 It  is  difficult  here  to  get  the  right  word.  Nietzsche  repeats  Schopen- 
hauer’s views  as  to  the  inapplicability  of  the  category  of  “ causality  ” in 
this  connection  (Werke,  X,  193),  and  yet  his  constant  underlying  presup- 
position is  that  there  are  things  outside  ourselves,  which  in  some  way 
affect  us.  We  receive  (empfangen)  the  stimuli  (Reize) — this  is  the  way 
in  which  he  always  speaks. 

™ Cf.  Helmholtz,  “ So  far  as  the  characteristic  quality  of  our  sensation 
informs  of  the  peculiar  nature  of  the  outer  influence  that  excites  it,  it 
may  pass  as  a sign  of  it,  but  not  as  a copy.  ...  A sign  need  have  no 
sort  of  resemblance  to  that  of  which  it  is  the  sign.  The  relation  between 
the  two  consists  simply  in  the  fact  that  the  same  object  under  the  same 
conditions  elicits  the  same  sign”  (Physiologische  Optik,  §26). 

n F.  H.  Bradley,  in  his  Principles  of  Logic,  protested  against  the  re- 
duction of  the  universe  to  an  “ unearthly  ballet  of  bloodless  categories,” 
and  Schopenhauer  still  earlier  had  referred  to  Hegel’s  “Ballet  der  Selbst- 
bewegung  der  Begriffe”  (Fourfold  Root  of  the  Principle  of  Sufficient 
Reason,  §34). 

0 Nietzsche  had  perhaps  noted  Schiller’s  line,  “ Wage  du  zu  irren  und 
zu  traumen,”  which  Lange  quotes  (Geschichte  des  Materialismus,  II,  513). 
Schiller  had  also  said, 

“ Nur  der  Irrthum  ist  das  Leben 
Und  das  Wissen  ist  der  Tod.” 

p If  the  ordinary  person  replies  to  Bishop  Berkeley’s  arguments  about 
matter,  “ It  is  no  matter  what  Bishop  Berkeley  says,”  he  is  quite  right : 
it  is  no  matter — to  him,  and  he  probably  does  better  to  keep  to  his 
instinctive  views. 

aCf.  a passage  in  William  James’s  Principles  of  Psychology,  I,  288-9, 
ending,  “ Other  sculptors,  other  statues  from  the  same  stone ! Other 
minds,  other  worlds  from  the  same  monotonous  and  inexpressive  chaos! 
My  world  is  but  one  of  a million  alike  imbedded,  alike  real  to  those  who 
may  abstract  them.  How  different  must  be  the  worlds  in  the  mind  of 
eel,  cuttle-fish,  or  crab!  ” 


CHAPTER  VI 

a Cf.  “Schopenhauer  etc.,”  sect.  1,  as  to  what  education  may  do: 
while  it  cannot  change  the  “ wahre  Ursinn  und  Grundstoff  ” of  our  being, 
it  may  free  it  of  weeds,  rubbish,  and  vermin,  bring  it  light  and  air  and 
rain,  and  so  complete  the  work  of  stepmotherly  nature. 

b Cf.  the  statement  of  his  four  rules  of  controversial  warfare  in  Ecce 
Homo,  I,  § 7.  The  passage,  though  written  miich  later,  throws  such  an 
important  light  on  his  general  psychology  and  history  that  I quote  it  in 
full : “ War  is  another  matter.  I am  warlike  in  my  way.  To  attack  is 


484 


NOTES 


one  of  my  instincts.  Ability  to  be  hostile,  hostility — this  perhaps  presup- 
poses a strong  nature,  in  any  case  it  is  conditioned  in  the  make-up  of 
every  strong  nature.  Such  a nature  needs  oppositions,  consequently  it 
seeks  opposition:  aggressive  pathos  belongs  as  necessarily  to  strength  as 
revengefulness  and  rancor  {Rack-  und  Nachgefuhl)  to  weakness.  Woman 
for  example,  is  revengeful:  it  goes  with  her  weakness,  as  does  also  her 
sensibility  to  others’  needs. — The  strength  of  the  aggressor  has  a kind  of 
measure  in  the  opposition  he  needs:  all  growth  shows  itself  in  the 
seeking  out  of  a powerful  opponent — or  problem;  for  a philosopher,  who 
is  warlike,  challenges  also  problems  to  a duel.  The  task  is  to  overcome, 
not  oppositions  in  general,  but  those  which  require  the  enlistment  of  all 
one’s  force,  suppleness,  and  mastery  in  arms — equal  opponents.  Equality 
with  the  enemy — first  presupposition  of  an  honest  duel.  Where  one 
despises,  one  can  not  wage  war;  where  one  commands,  where  one  sees 
something  beneath  one,  one  has  no  war  to  wage. — My  war-practice  may 
be  summed  up  in  four  propositions.  First,  I attack  only  those  things  that 
are  victorious — on  occasion  I wait  till  they  are  victorious.  Second,  I attack 
only  things  against  which  I should  find  no  allies,  where  I stand  alone — 
where  I compromise  myself  alone.  ...  I have  never  taken  a step  pub- 
licly, which  did  not  compromise  me:  that  is  my  criterion  of  right  acting. 
Third,  I never  attack  persons, — I use  the  person  only  as  a strong 
magnifying-glass,  by  which  to  make  a general,  but  elusive  and  impalpable 
evil  visible.  So  I attacked  David  Strauss,  more  exactly  the  success  of  an 
old  man’s  weak  book  in  the  circles  of  German  ‘ culture  ’ — I thereby  caught 
this  culture  in  the  act.  . . . So  I attacked  Wagner,  more  exactly  the 
falseness,  the  mongrel  instincts  (die  Instinkt-Halhschldchtigkeit)  of  our 
culture  which  confuses  the  super-refined  with  the  opulent,  the  latest  with 
the  great.  Fourth,  I attack  only  things  where  every  personal  difference  is 
excluded,  where  there  is  no  background  of  sorry  experiences.  On  the  eon- 
trary,  attacking  is  with  me  a proof  of  good  will,  and,  on  occasion,  of  grati- 
tude. I honor,  I distinguish,  when  I connect  my  name  with  that  of  a cause, 
a person:  for  or  against — it  is  all  the  same.  When  I make  war  on  Chris- 
tianity, this  is  allowable,  because  I have  had  nothing  unfortunate  and 
obstructive  from  that  quarter — the  most  earnest  Christians  have  ever 
been  kindly  disposed  to  me.  I myself,  an  opponent  of  Christianity  de 
rigueur,  am  far  from  charging  to  the  individual  what  is  the  fatal  result 
of  past  ages.” 

eft  must  be  admitted  that  later  on — in  his  second  period — Nietzsche 
does  occasionally  use  “ Selbstsucht  ” in  a eulogistic  sense.  His  attitude 
then  becomes  one  of  sweeping  criticism  toward  his  early  views,  and 
particularly  toward  whatever  could  be  regarded  as  high-flown  and  extrava- 
gant,— and  he  puts  a certain  selfishness  at  the  root  of  all  actions.  All  the 
same,  he  admits  that  there  are  different  kinds  and  grades  of  it,  and  in 
connection  with  Siegfried  speaks  of  “ der  hochsten  Selbstsucht  ” (using 
“Selbstigkeit  ” a few  lines  further  on — see  Joyful  Science,  §99).  On  the 
other  hand,  even  “ Selbstisch  ” is  used  with  an  unfavorable  shade  of 
meaning  in  Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 91. 


CHAPTER  VII 

a What  would  be  possible  if  all  men’s  needs  were  met  by  the  direct 
bounty  of  nature  (as  is  sometimes  supposed  to  be  the  case  in  tropical 
regions),  or  if  machinery  could  take  the  place  of  labor,  is  another  ques- 
tion. Nietzsche  recognizes  the  higher  uses  of  machinery,  and  in  general 
takes  a somewhat  broader  view  of  the  subject  later  on  (see  pp.  133,  440). 

See  J.  E.  Cabot’s  A Memoir  of  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  p.  450.  No 


NOTES 


485 


doubt  other  motives  co-operated  in  leading  Emerson  to  make  the  experi- 
ment, but  I think  that  the  one  mentioned  in  the  text  was  the  underlying 
one. 

CHAPTER  VIII 

a The  connection  which  music  may  have  with  a man’s  deeper  mood 
and  attitude  to  life  as  a whole  is  shown  in  an  avowal  made  by  Schumann 
to  Mendelssohn  after  hearing  the  latter  play  one  of  Bach’s  chorals:  “ Were 
life  deprived  of  all  trust,  of  all  faith,  this  simple  choral  would  restore  all 
to  me.” 

b Whether  Wagner  really  held  to  the  full  Nietzschean  (Schopen- 
hauerian ) view  of  the  relation  of  words  to  music  is  open  to  question,  but 
Nietzsche  thought  so  at  this  time.  Cf.  The  Birth  of  Tragedy,  sect.  16; 
“Richard  Wagner  etc.,”  sects.  5,  8,  9;  Genealogy  of  Morals,  III,  § 5. 

c All  this  is  important  to  bear  in  mind  in  connection  with  Nietzsche’s 
later  criticism  of  Wagner  (particularly  in  “The  Case  of  Wagner”),  of 
which,  for  reasons  of  space,  I shall  not  be  able  to  give  any  detailed 
account. 

d He  wrote  to  Erwin  Rohde,  January  28,  1872,  “ I have  closed  an 
alliance  with  Wagner.  You  can  have  no  idea  how  near  we  are  now  to  one 
another,  and  how  our  plans  fit  together”  (Brief e,  II,  285). 

e A “ Culturgeschichte  des  griechischen  Volkes,”  in  which  all  his  phil- 
ological studies  were  to  culminate.  He  returned  to  the  idea  in  1875,  plan- 
ning systematic  courses  of  lectures  to  cover  seven  years.  See  Richter,  op. 
cit.,  p.  57. 

f Ziegler  says  that  Nietzsche  was  ready  to  give  up  his  professorship  for 
this  purpose  (op.  cit.,  p.  65;  cf.  Drews,  op.  cit.,  p.  159;  Richter,  op.  cit., 
p.  58  n.),  and  Drews  adds  that  he  had  some  idea  of  founding  a new  kind 
of  educational  institution  (op.  cif.,  pp.  45-6).  We  find  him  speaking  in 
“ We  Philologists  ” of  establishing  a great  center  for  the  production  of 
better  men  as  the  task  of  the  future,  and  of  educating  the  educators  for 
such  work — although  the  first  ones  must  educate  themselves,  and  it  was 
for  these  he  wrote  (Weiice,  X,  415-9).  Cf.  Ernst  Weber,  Die  pddagogishen 
Gedanken  des  jungen  Nietzsche,  im  Zusammenhang  mit  seiner  Welt-  und 
Lehens-Anschauung. 

s The  offense  given  to  purely  philological  circles  by  The  Birth  of 
Tragedy  found  marked  expression  in  Wilamowitz-Mollendorf’s  Zukunfts- 
philologie,  Eine  Erwiderung  auf  Friedrich  Nietzsches  Geburt  der  Tragbdie. 
To  this  Erwin  Rohde  replied  with  another  brochure,  Afterphilologie, 
Sendschreiben  eines  Philologen  an  Richard  Wagner — Wagner  having  come 
to  the  defense  of  Nietzsche  in  a public  letter.  See  the  summary  of  the 
controversy  in  Richter,  op.  cit.,  pp.  43-4. 

h This,  however,  was  not  printed  at  the  time,  being  regarded  by 
Wagner  circles  as  not  sufficiently  diplomatic  (see  Brief e,  Ha,  217  ff., 
where  it  is  given,  and  Richter,  op.  cit.,  p.  43). 

‘Nietzsche  had  complained,  Easter,  1873,  that  the  Germans  were  not 
subscribing  to  the  Bayreuth  project,  and  to  the  question  Why?  he  an- 
swered that  the  educated  Philistine  (Bildungs-Philister)  had  become  con- 
tented, and  had  lost  the  sense  for  what  was  great.  Strauss  was  a typical 
representative  of  the  new  state  of  mind,  and  this  was  the  principal  reason 
for  the  attack  on  him.  See  Werke  (pocket  ed.),  II,  xxxii-iii. 

3 Paul  Elmer  More  disposes  of  the  break — “ quarrel,”  as  he  terms  it — 
very  simply:  it  was  at  bottom  due  to  “ the  clashing  of  two  insanely  jealous 
egotisms”  (Nietzsche,  p.  75). 

It  is  possible,  even  probable,  that  Nietzsche  was  unjust  to  Wagner 
in  this  interpretation;  see  Richter’s  admirable  account  of  the  whole 
matter,  op.  cit.,  p.  52  ff.;  also  Drews’  discriminations,  op.  cit.,  p.  188  ff. 


486 


NOTES 


lAs  to  the  real  Wagner,  see  Henri  Lichtenberger’s  two  books,  Wagner 
(in  the  series,  “ Les  Maitres  de  la  Musique”),  and  Richard  Wagner,  Poite 
et  Penseur.  Rare  sympathy  and  understanding  for  both  Nietzsche  and 
Wagner  mark  this  author’s  writings.  See  also  Edouard  Schurg’s  article  in 
the  Revue  des  deux  mondes,  August  15,  1895. 

“ In  a late  letter  to  Strindberg  he  even  speaks — confusedly,  we  must 
think — of  illness  as  leading  to  a cessation  of  the  relations  with  Wagner 
(see  North  American  Review,  August,  1913,  p.  195). 

CHAPTER  IX 

a See  the  warning  addressed  to  young  readers,  Werke  (pocket  ed.). 
Ill,  442,  § 19. 

Cf.  Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  §211;  also  Lou  Andreas-Salomg’s  remarks 
on  the  general  character  of  this  period,  op.  cit.,  p.  90. 

c August  Horneffer  (Nietzsche  als  Moralist  und  Schriftsteller,  p.  22) 
thinks  that  moral  criticism  (moralische  Bedenken)  was  really  Nietzsche’s 
starting  point,  citing  Nietzsche’s  own  language  in  the  preface,  § 3,  to 
Genealogy  of  Morals,  but  that  he  did  not  venture  to  follow  the  impulse 
at  first,  owing  to  aversion  to  the  subject  in  the  circles  about  him  and  the 
indifference  of  the  general  public  to  the  older  moralists  of  that  type — a 
contributory  factor  being  that  his  own  thoughts  were  not  ripe  and  had 
no  definite  direction.  Accordingly,  when  later,  i.e.,  with  the  period  we 
are  now  considering,  he  appeared  as  a moralist,  all  the  world  was  sur- 
prised and  disgusted. 

d He  echoes  Goethe’s  estimate  of  reason  and  science  as  the  highest 
capacity  of  man  (Human,  etc.,  § 265).  Nothing  is  more  urgent  than 
knowing,  and  keeping  oneself  continuously  in  condition  to  do  so  thor- 
oughly (ibid.,  § 288).  See  in  particular  the  remarks  on  the  scientific  man 
of  the  type  of  Aristotle  (ibid.,  § 264). 

c This  perhaps  not  entirely  from  lack  of  will.  Later  on,  as  we  shall 
see,  he  planned  an  extensive  course  of  study  in  the  natural  sciences,  and  he 
now  remarks  that  every  one  ought  to  master  at  least  one  science  thor- 
oughly, so  as  to  know  what  scientific  method  means  and  how  necessary  is 
the  utmost  circumspection — recommending  this  especially  to  women 
(Human,  etc.,  635).  Perhaps  an  exception  should  be  made  to  the  language 
of  the  text,  so  far  as  Nietzsche  had  specialized  in  Greek  philology.  Had 
he  remained  faithful  to  this  specialty  and  not  been  drawn  into  the  general 
field  of  philosophy  and  ethics,  he  might  have  produced  something  of  the 
first  rank  in  it.  Richter  says,  “I  am  convinced  that  had  Nietzsche  held 
on  to  philology  and  his  professional  work,  he  might  have  become  an  his- 
torian of  Greek  culture  in  great  style  and  of  great  authority”  (op.  cit., 
p.  58). 

f Cf.  Nietzsche’s  own  language  on  the  hesitating,  intermediate  char- 
acter of  this  period.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 30. 

e Nietzsche,  however,  speaks  of  the  friendly  extravagance  of  the  in- 
scription ( letter  to  Rohde,  Brief e,  II,  549 ) . 

h Nietzsche  writes  to  Rohde  in  the  above-mentioned  letter  (of  June, 
1878):  “By  the  way,  always  seek  out  myself  in  my  book  (Human,  AU- 
too-Human]  and  not  friend  Ree.  I am  proud  to  have  discovered  his 
splendid  qualities  and  intentions,  but  he  has  not  had  the  slightest  influ- 
ence on  the  conception  of  my  ‘ philosophia  in  nuce’;  this  was  finished 
and  in  good  part  committed  to  paper,  when  I made  his  nearer  acquaint- 
ance in  the  autumn  of  1876  ” [perhaps  the  word  “ conception  ” is  sig- 
nificant, the  statement  not  being  really  inconsistent  with  indebtedness  to 
RCe  for  help  in  detail].  An  account  of  the  intellectual  relations  of 
Nietzsche  to  R6e  is  given  in  the  preface  (§4;  cf.  §7)  to  Genealogy  of 


NOTES 


487 


Morals.  Wagner  did  not  like  R6e,  who  was  a Jew,  and  warned  Nietzsche 
in  Sorrento  against  him  (see  Drews,  op.  cit.,  p.  221).  Richter  has  an 
extended  discriminating  note  on  the  relations  between  Nietzsche  and  Ree 
(op.  cit.,  pp.  163-4). 

i Ziegler  appears  to  me  to  exaggerate  when  he  speaks  of  a “ ganz 
fundamentale  Wandlung”  (op.  cit.,  p.  76);  he  says  later  himself  that 
the  change  was  “ angelahnt.”  Riehl  speaks  simply  of  a “ grosse 
Loslosung  ” (op.  cit.,  p.  59).  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  change 
appeared  great,  even  to  those  who  knew  Nietzsche  well  (cf.  what  Rohde 
wrote,  as  quoted  in  Bernoulli’s  Franz  Overheck  und  Nietzsche,  I,  261). 


CHAPTER  X 

a Cf.  a striking  passage  quoted  by  Riehl  (op.  cit.,  p.  68)  which  I 
cannot  locate : “ How  strong  the  metaphysical  need  is  . . . may  be  gath- 
ered from  the  fact  that  even  when  a free  man  has  got  rid  of  all  meta- 
physical belief,  art  in  its  highest  manifestations  easily  causes  a rever- 
beration ( Miterklingen)  of  the  long  silent  or  even  broken  metaphysical 
strings.  If  one  becomes  conscious  of  this,  one  feels  a deep  twinge  of 
the  heart  and  longs  for  a return  of  the  object  he  has  lost,  whether  it 
be  called  religion  or  metaphysics.  In  such  moments  a man’s  intellectual 
character  is  put  to  the  proof.” 

b Cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 540,  where  he  even  calls  it  a piece  of  pedantry 
to  distinguish  between  learning  by  study  and  natural  endowment,  though 
he  admits  that  Michael  Angelo  distinguished  in  this  way  (in  contrasting 
Raphael  with  himself),  and  that  learning  is  not  altogether  a matter  of 
will : one  must  be  ahle  to  learn. 

c In  Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 213,  however,  Nietzsche  gives  precedence  in 
education  to  drawing  and  painting  over  music;  and  in  The  Wanderer  etc., 
§ 167,  he  has  other  depreciatory  references  to  music,  even  saying  that 
the  Greeks  gave  it  a secondary  place — that  is,  aside  from  the  Pytha- 
goreans, who  invented  the  five-year  silence  and  did  not  invent  dialectics — 
something  for  which  he  now  has  more  respect  than  in  his  first  period. 
This  view  uf  the  Greeks,  if  at  all  reconcilable  with  his  earlier  view,  is 
only  so  if  he  has  the  later  (decadent)  Greeks  in  mind,  or  at  least  the 
Greeks,  so  far  as  they  loved  discussion  and  strife. 

d Cf.  Human,  etc.,  § 292,  “ No  honey  is  sweeter  than  that  of  knowl- 
edge”; this  aphorism  closes  with  the  ejaculation,  “Toward  the  light — 
thy  last  movement;  an  exultant  cry  of  knowing — thy  last  sound.”  On 
the  other  hand,  Nietzsche  is  not  unaware  of  the  losses  or  dangers  to 
which  men  of  science  are  subject — on  the  side  of  active  will  they  are 
apt  to  be  weakened,  and  they  may  lose  their  highest  power  and  bloom 
earlier  than  the  poetic  natures  (Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 206). 

® Cf.  another  description  of  one  who  has  a “ free  ” mind  about  life 
(Human,  etc.,  § 287):  though  at  first  he  loves  and  hates,  and  forgets 
nothing,  he  comes  in  time  neither  to  hate  existence  nor  to  love  it,  but 
to  lie  above  it,  now  with  the  eye  of  joy,  now  with  that  of  sorrow,  like 
nature  herself  with  her  alternating  summer  and  autumn  moods. 

f Cf.  the  picture  of  the  “ Don  Juan  of  Knowledge,”  Daivn  of  Day, 
§ 327 : the  objects  he  gains  fail  to  hold  his  love,  but  he  enjoys  the  adven- 
ture, the  pursuit,  and  the  intrigues;  he  pursues  the  highest  and  remotest 
stars  of  knowledge,  till  at  last  there  is  nothing  more  to  seek,  unless  it 
be  the  abode  of  pain,  and  perhaps  even  that  will  disappoint  him  like 
everything  else.  Even  during  Nietzsche’s  student  days  at  Bonn,  he  had 
written  his  sister  (June  11,  1865),  “Do  we  then  in  our  study  seek  rest, 
peace,  happiness?  No,  only  truth,  and  even  if  it  were  in  the  highest 
degree  horrible  and  ugly”  (Briefe,  V,  113). 


488 


NOTES 


E Cf.  the  striking  description  of  the  manner  of  life  of  one  who  devotes 
himself  to  knowledge,  Human,  etc.,  § 291.  Nietzsche  thinks  it  new  in 
history  to  make  knowledge  something  more  than  a means — even  among 
the  Greeks  it  was  a means  to  virtue,  as  among  Christians  a means  to 
the  soul’s  salvation  (Joyful  Science,  §123). 

h Cf.  Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  § 369 : “ There  is  a weariness  of  the  finest 
and  more  cultivated  minds,  for  whom  the  best  that  earth  offers  has 
become  empty.”  See  also,  in  the  course  of  study  of  the  psychology  of  the 
Apostle  Paul,  the  appreciation  of  the  religious  idealism  of  ancient  Israel, 
Dawn  of  Day,  § 68.  As  to  the  lack  of  intellectual  warrant,  however,  for 
the  positions  of  religion,  see  Human,  etc.,  §§  110,  111,  and  the  extreme 
statements  of  Dawn  of  Day,  §§  95,  464. 

> Nietzsche  is  sometimes  scarcely  just  either  to  religion  or  to  meta- 
physics, showing,  for  instance,  a strange  lack  of  comprehension  (strange 
particularly  for  one  who  knew  Schopenhauer)  of  the  Christian  " Seelen- 
noth,”  which  sighs  over  inner  corruption  and  craves  salvation  (Human, 
etc.,  §27;  Dawn  of  Day,  §57);  he  even  speaks  of  the  flattening  and 
externalizing  of  the  religious  life  which  followed  in  the  wake  of  the 
Renaissance  as  something  to  be  looked  upon  with  joy  (Human,  etc., 
§ 237  ) . However,  in  another  passage,  “ In  honor  of  the  homines  religiosi  ” 
(Joyful  Science,  § 350),  he  virtually  qualifies  the  last-named  judgment, 
saying  that  the  struggle  against  the  church  was  partly  the  struggle  of 
the  commoner,  more  self-satisfied,  and  superficial  natures  against  the 
graver  and  deeper  ones. 

i See  a wonderful  passage  continuing  this  line  of  thought  (Joyful 
Science,  § 277),  and  concluding,  “In  fact  something  plays  with  us  now 
and  then — dear  accident:  it  takes  us  on  occasion  by  the  hand,  and  the 
wisest  Providence  could  conceive  no  more  beautiful  music  than  our  foolish 
hand  succeeds  in  making.” 

k A legitimate  use  of  the  term  “ soul  ” is  as  covering  those  inner 
motions  which  come  easy  to  one  and  hence  are  accomplished  gladly  and 
with  grace;  a man  passes  as  soulless  when  these  motions  come  hard  and 
with  effort  (Dawn  of  Day,  §311).  On  the  “soul”  as  an  inner  quantity 
in  general,  see  Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 16. 

1 Compare  a similar  view,  worked  out  with  convincing  thoroughness, 
by  the  late  Edmund  Montgomery  in  his  Philosophical  Problems  in  the 
Light  of  Vital  Organization.  Nietzsche  has  interesting  comments  on 
dreams  as  interpretations  of  bodily,  particularly  nervous  states  (Human, 
etc.,  §13;  Dawn  of  Day,  §119;  Will  to  Power,  § 479);  if  the  dreams 
change,  the  conditions  being  the  same,  it  is  because  varying  impulses  are 
in  turn  dominant  in  us  (Joyful  Science,  §119).  Will,  in  the  conscious 
sense,  is,  equally  with  consciousness  in  general,  a secondary  phenomenon 
(Dawn  of  Day,  § 124).  At  the  same  time  he  seems  to  regard  something 
akin  to  thought  as  belonging  to  the  very  nature  of  man,  making  the 
singular  statement,  “ Man,  like  every  living  creature,  thinks  continually, 
but  does  not  know  it”  (Meyer,  op.  cit.,  p.  359,  quotes  this  from  Joyful 
Science,  but  I cannot  place  it;  cf.  note  gg,  p.  500  of  this  volume). 

m The  contrasted  requisites  for  describing  and  explaining  are  men- 
tioned in  Dawn  of  Day,  § 428.  Apparently  Nietzsche  held  to  the  a priori 
nature  of  the  causal  idea — at  least  Joyful  Science,  § 98,  looks  that  way. 

n It  must  be  admitted  that  an  express  and  clear  reconciling  state- 
ment (such  as  one  finds,  for  example,  in  Montgomery’s  book  just  alluded 
to)  Nietzsche  does  not  make. 


CHAPTER  XI 

a Nietzsche  also  differs  from  Kant  and  Schopenhauer  in  that  while 
they  accept  the  feeling  of  responsibility  at  its  face  value,  and  argue 


NOTES 


48g 


Tinliesitatingly  from  it  as  a premise  to  free  will  as  a conclusion,  he  sub- 
jects the  feeling  to  critical  scrutiny.  See  particularly  Human,  etc.,  § 39, 
and  Richter’s  comments  (op.  cit.,  p.  177). 

b Cf.,  for  example,  chap,  ix  of  J.  Cotter  Morison’s  Service  of  Man. 
Nietzsche’s  attitude  is  also  much  like  Spinoza’s;  cf.  Genealogy  of  Morals, 
II,  § 15,  and  Richter,  op.  cit.,  pp.  347-8. 

c How  impulses  of  praise  and  blame  arise  is  interestingly,  if  one- 
sidedly,  set  forth  in  Dawn  of  Day,  § 140. 

4 Cf.  Genealogy  of  Morals,  III,  § 16;  Twilight  of  the  Idols,  I,  § 10; 
Will  to  Power,  §§  233,  235.  Emerson’s  remark  may  be  quoted,  “The  less 
we  have  to  do  with  our  sins  the  better.  No  man  can  afford  to  waste  his 
moments  in  compunctions”  (“  Swedenborg”  in  Representative  Men). 

e This  is  a later  statement  (Zarathustra,  II,  xx),  but  in  harmony 
with  the  view  now.  The  analysis  made  of  revenge  there  is  interesting: 
we  are  impotent  to  change  the  injury  since  it  belongs  to  the  past,  and 
yet  we  wish  to  assert  our  power  and  get  even  with  it,  and  so  we  inflict 
pain,  i.e.,  do  a senseless  thing  rather  than  nothing. 

f Cf.  a later  reference  to  Plato’s  “ Timaeus  ” (Werke,  XIV,  318, 
§154):  “very  interesting  is  Plato’s  ‘Timaeus,’  p.  86:  mental  illness 
occasioned  by  a defective  state  of  the  body;  the  task  of  educators  and 
states  is  to  heal  at  this  point.  If  the  cure  is  not  accomplished  in  time, 
educators  and  states,  not  the  sick,  to  be  held  responsible.” 

8 Cf.,  on  this  general  subject,  Dietrich  H.  Kerler’s  Nietzsche  und  die 
Vergeltungsidee  (zur  Strafrechtsreform) . 

b Richter  (op.  cit.,  p.  177)  notes  that  these  motives  are  now  treated 
as  interchangeable  by  Nietzsche,  though  they  are  so  different.  Pleasure 
(in  the  broad  elastic  sense)  is  undoubtedly  the  more  fundamental  one, 
and  Nietzsche  himself  gives  preservation  a secondary  place  later  on. 

* Nietzsche  goes  far  in  his  exaltation  of  reason  at  this  time,  as  con- 
trasted with  the  relative  depreciation  of  it  earlier.  He  even  asks  whether 
it  is  not  the  head  that  binds  men  together  (for  advantage),  and  the 
heart  (blind  gropings  of  love  and  hate)  that  sunders  them  (Mixed. 
Opinions  etc.,  § 197 ; cf.  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 41 ) . “ Besonnenheit  ” is 

called  the  virtue  of  virtues  (The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 294;  cf.  § 189).  He 
questions  whether  feelings  are  the  original  element  in  us,  suggesting  that 
judgments  often  lie  behind  them,  though  this  may  be  forgotten  and  the 
feelings  pass  on  as  instinctive  inheritances;  so  temperament  in  many 
men  may  owe  its  origin  to  good  or  bad  intellectual  habits — if  not  in 
themselves,  then  in  their  ancestors  (Dawn  of  Day,  §§  247,  35).  Once 
he  admits,  however,  that  aversion  may  be  more  ultimate  than  the  reasons 
given  for  it  (ibid.,  § 358).  See  on  the  subject,  Riehl,  op.  cit.,  p.  65; 
Richter,  op.  cit.,  p.  178. 

i Occasionally  (e.g..  Human,  etc.,  §49)  Nietzsche  refers  to  “ unego - 
istic  ” impulses,  and  this  leads  Ziegler  (op.  cit.,  p.  86)  to  the  view  that 
he  recognized  a double  source  of  human  action;  but  in  such  cases,  I take 
it,  he  simply  relapses  into  ordinary  methods  of  speech.  In  Human,  etc.,, 
§ 48,  after  using  the  term  “ unegoistid,”  he  says  that  the  word  is  never 
to  be  understood  strictly,  but  simply  as  a convenient  form  of  expression, 
(eine  Erleichterung  des  Ausdrucks) . 

k Nietzsche  gives  still  other  statements  of  the  stages  through  which 
morality  passes.  For  example,  according  to  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 44, 
morality  was  at  first  and  at  bottom  a means  of  preserving  the  com- 
munity or  of  keeping  it  on  a certain  level,  the  motives  appealed  to  being 
fear  and  hope — with  perhaps  the  added  fear  of  an  hereafter  and  a hell ; 
later,  it  becomes  the  command  of  a God  (cf.  the  “Mosaic  law”),  and 
later  still  an  absolute  law;  at  length  a morality  of  inclination,  of  taste 
arrives — and  finally  one  of  insight,  which  transcends  the  whole  circle  of 
illusionary  motives,  yet  is  aware  that  for  ages  mankind  could  have  had 


490 


NOTES 


no  others.  See  further  statements  in  Human,  etc.,  § 94;  The  Wanderer  etc., 
§ 64,  and  Beyond  Oood  and  Evil,  § 32. 

lAt  this  time  Nietzsche  assigns  to  forgetfulness  a great  role  in  the 
development  or  transformation  of  moral  conceptions.  See  as  to  justice, 
Human,  etc.,  § 92,  and  even  as  to  intellectual  scrupulousness.  Mixed 
Opinions  etc.,  § 26,  and  generally.  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 206. 

m Cf .,  as  to  motives  in  returning  kindnesses.  The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 256 ; 
in  beneficence,  ibid.,  § 253;  Beyond  Oood  and  Evil,  § 194;  and  the  general 
irony  of  Dawn  of  Day,  §§  385,  523;  Joyful  Science,  §88.  Nietzsche  ques- 
tions, however,  whether  vanity  should  be  condemned  to  the  extent  that  it 
ordinarily  is  {The  Wanderer  etc.,  §§60,  181) — see  the  fine  analysis,  with 
reasons  why  vanity  should  be  tenderly  treated,  in  Zarathustra,  II,  xxi; 
still  he  has  no  real  love  for  it  (Joyful  Science,  §§  87,  263,  283).  In- 
stances of  his  irony  toward  moral  airs  and  pretensions  may  be  found 
in  Joyful  Science,  §§  27,  88,  214;  Dawn  of  Day,  §§310,  419 — see  The 
Wanderer  etc.,  §§  14,  304,  as  to  man’s  taking  himself  as  the  end  of 
existence. 

In  criticism  of  this  kind,  no  doubt  the  French  moralists  such  as 
Montaigne,  La  Rochefoucauld,  La  Bruyfere,  Fontenelle,  Vauvenargues, 
and  Chamfort  served  more  or  less  as  models.  He  says  that  their 
writings  have  more  real  thought  in  them  than  all  the  books  of  German 
philosophers  put  together — that  they  continue  the  spirit  of  the  Renais- 
sance and  of  the  Greco-Roman  world  (The  Wanderer  etc.,  §214).  He 
even  has  words  of  recognition  for  Helvetius  (ibid.,  §216),  though  later 
on  he  reflects  on  him,  together  with  Bentham  (Beyond  Good  and  Evil, 
§ 228 ) . He  does  not  pass  over  Rousseau  and  notes  his  influence  on 
Kant — Rousseau  was  in  part  the  author  of  the  moral  revival  which 
spread  over  Europe  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century;  the  revival, 
however,  contributed  little  to  the  understanding  of  moral  phenomena, 
and  had  rather,  from  this  point  of  view,  an  injurious  and  retrogressive 
influence  (The  Wanderer  etc.,  §216). 

n Cf.  Datcn  of  Day,  §516,  and  Zarathustra’s  sayings,  “Physician, 
help  thyself:  so  dost  thou  help  thy  patient  too”  (Zarathustra,  I,  xxii, 
§2)  ; “If  thou  hast  a suffering  friend,  be  a resting-place  to  his  suffering, 
but,  as  it  were,  a hard  bed,  a camp  bed;  so  shalt  thou  serve  him  best” 
(ibid.,  II,  iii). 

CHAPTER  XII 

a Simmel  (op.  cit.,  chap,  i)  finds  a fundamental  difference  between 
Schopenhauer  and  Nietzsche  in  their  respective  attitudes  to  evolution 
as  a process  in  time;  see  also  Meyer’s  comments  (op.  cit.,  p.  275),  and 
Nietzsche’s  own  reference  to  Schopenhauer  in  Beyond  Good  and  Evil, 
§ 204. 

b Schopenhauer,  it  may  be  observed,  never  radically  changed  in  his 
philosophical  views,  knew  no  evolution — once  precipitated  (and  at  a 
comparatively  early  time  in  his  life),  the  views  remained  fixed. 

c We  scarcely  think  of  the  “ blessing  of  labor  ” just  where  it  would 
be  an  unquestionable  blessing,  namely  for  one  who,  having  inherited  a 
competence,  is  without  sufficient  intellect  to  know  how  to  use  the  leisure 
it  gives  (Joyful  Science,  § 359).  The  principal  benefit  of  labor  is  in 
keeping  common  natures  and  officials,  business  people,  soldiers,  and 
the  like,  from  being  idle,  just  as  it  is  the  principal  objection  to  socialism 
that  it  wants  to  create  idleness  for  common  natures — for  the  idle  common 
individual  becomes  a burden  to  himself  and  to  the  world  (Werke,  XI, 
367,  § 555). 

<1  Nietzsche’s  picture  of  the  “ great  men  of  industry  ” may  seem 
overdrawn  and  probably  was  not  based  on  much  personal  observation. 


NOTES 


491 


but  Charles  Francis  Adams  remarks  in  his  recently  published  auto- 
biography {Charles  Francis  Adams,  1835-1915 : An  autobiography,  p.  196)  : 
“ I have  known,  and  known  tolerably  well,  a good  many  ‘ successful  ’ men — ■ 
‘big’  financially — men  famous  during  the  last  half  century;  and  a less 
interesting  crowd  I do  not  care  to  encounter.  Not  one  that  I have  ever 
known  would  I care  to  meet  again,  either  in  this  world  or  the  next;  nor 
is  one  of  them  associated  in  my  mind  with  the  idea  of  humor,  thought, 
or  refinement.  A set  of  mere  money-makers  and  traders,  they  were 
essentially  unattractive  and  uninteresting.” 

e Nietzsche’s  earliest  reference  (i.e.,  in  his  first,  semi-metaphysical 
period)  to  the  doctrines  of  the  French  Revolution  was  uncomplimentary — 
they  were  an  un-German,  superficial,  and  unmetaphysical  philosophy  of 
the  Romanic  order  {Werke,  IX,  161).  He  thinks  that  the  Revolution 
would  have  been  much  tamer  and  no  such  seduction  for  men  of  intellect 
as  it  proved  to  be,  had  not  Chamfort  cast  in  his  lot  with  it  {Joyful 
Science,  §95;  cf.  § 350).  He,  however,  speaks  with  unstinted  admiration 
of  Carnot,  “ the  soldier  and  the  republican,”  calling  him  “ great,  brave, 
simple,  silent”  {Dawn  of  Day,  § 167). 

f Nietzsche  views  democracy  in  other  aspects  on  which  I have  not 
space  to  dwell.  But  I may  note  what  he  says  of  its  influence  on  music. 
He  finds  German  music  more  European  than  any  other,  since  it  alone 
reflects  the  changed  European  spirit;  in  Italian  operas  we  still  hear 
choruses  of  servants  and  soldiers,  not  of  the  people.  Explicable  also  in 
this  way  is  a kind  of  middle-class  attitude  of  jealousy  toward  noblesse, 
particularly  toward  esprit  and  elegance,  which  is  observable  in  German 
music;  it  is  no  longer  music  like  that  of  Goethe’s  singer  before  the 
castle-gate,  which  pleases  the  hall  and  the  king.  Beethoven  represents 
the  new  tendency,  who,  as  compared  with  Goethe  (one  thinks  of  their 
encounter  at  Teplitz)  appears  like  half-barbarism  alongside  of  culture,  the 
people  alongside  of  the  noble  class.  Nietzsche  even  raises  the  question 
whether  the  increasing  contempt  of  melody  among  Germans  is  not  a 
democratic  symptom  {Unart]  and  an  after-effect  of  the  Revolution — 
melody  being  akin  to  law-abidingness,  as  contrasted  with  the  revolu- 
tionary spirit  of  change.  See  Joyful  Science,  § 103. 

g Alfred  FouillSe  {Nietzsche  et  VImmoralisme,  p.  11)  notes  that  a 
German  writer  (Gistrow)  has  tried  to  make  a place  for  Nietzsche’s  ideas 
under  evolutionary  socialism. 

>1  He  once  goes  so  far  as  to  describe  the  socialists  as  angry  with  the 
commandment,  “ Thou  shalt  not  steal,”  and  wishing  to  have  it  read 
instead,  “Thou  shalt  not  own”  {The  Wanderer  etc.,  § 285).  In  Human, 
etc.,  § 460,  there  is  a picture  of  “ the  great  man  of  the  masses,”  which 
is  displeasing  enough.  After  considering  in  still  another  passage  {Dawn 
of  Day,  § 188)  the  tendency  to  drunkenness  among  the  people,  he  asks 
dubiously  whether  we  are  to  intrust  politics  to  them,  and  his  sister  tells 
us  that  he  was  angry  with  the  socialist  leaders  because  they  did  not 
contend  with  all  their  might  against  the  excessive  use  of  alcohol  among 
the  workers,  since  it  was  a worse  enemy  to  them  than  all  else  which 
they  counted  hostile  {Werke,  pocket  ed.,  V,  xix;  cf.  xx). 

i Nietzsche  even  thinks  that  for  the  time  being  at  least  culture  on 
a military  basis  stands  high  above  all  so-called  industrial  culture — 
soldiers  and  their  leaders  having  still  a much  higher  relation  to  each 
other  than  workers  and  their  employers;  he  sets  down  industrial  culture 
in  its  present  form  as  the  lowest  {gemeinste)  form  of  existence  that 
has  ever  been,  expressly  disagreeing  with  Herbert  Spencer.  “ Here 
works  simply  the  law  of  necessity;  men  want  to  live  and  have  to  sell 
themselves,  but  they  despise  the  one  who  exploits  this  necessity  and 
buys  them”  {Joyful  Science,  §40;  Werke,  XI,  369,  § 557). 

3 Even  a European  style  of  dress,  as  distinguished  from  national 


492 


NOTES 


styles,  is  developing  (The  Wanderer  etc.,  §215).  It  is  principally  dif- 
ferences of  language  that  prevent  our  perception  of  what  is  going  on, 
which  is  really  the  vanishing  of  the  national  and  the  production  of  the 
European  man  (Werke,  XI,  134,  § 425).  Meyer  (op.  cit.,  p.  663)  remarks 
that  Madame  de  Stael  was  the  first  to  light  upon  the  conception  of  the 
“ European  spirit.” 

■'Carl  Lory  (Nietzsche  als  Geschichtsphilosoph,  p.  27)  considers  some 
of  the  expectations  mentioned  in  the  text  fantastic;  but  what  are  they 
compared  to  a suggestion,  or  rather  question,  whether  we  might  not 
succeed  in  controlling  the  movement  of  our  planet,  or  in  migrating,  at 
our  utmost  need,  to  another,  which  is  made  by  a presumably  sober  English- 
man? So  L.  T.  Hobhouse’s  Development  and  Purpose,  as  reviewed  in  Mind, 
July,  1913,  p.  384. 

CHAPTER  XIII 

a Cf.  also  the  spirit  of  Human,  etc.,  § 291,  and  the  description  of  the 
ideal  of  the  philosopher’s  life  (“poverty,  chastity,  humility”)  in 
Genealogy  etc.,  Ill,  § 8.  Dr.  Paneth,  of  Vienna,  who  saw  Nietzsche  much 
in  Nice  during  the  winter  of  1883-4,  wrote  as  follows  of  him; 

“His  small  room  is  bare  and  inhospitable-looking;  it  certainly  has 
not  been  chosen  with  a view  either  to  ease  or  comfort,  but  solely  on 
account  of  economy.  It  has  no  stove,  no  carpet,  and  no  daintiness,  and 
when  I was  there  it  was  bitterly  cold.  Nietzsche  was  exceedingly  friendly. 
There  was  nothing  of  false  pathos  or  of  the  prophet  about  him,  although 
I had  expected  it  from  his  last  work;  on  the  contrary,  he  behaved  in 
quite  a harmless  and  natural  way,  and  we  began  a commonplace  con- 
versation about  the  climate  and  dwellings.  Then  he  told  me,  but  without 
the  slightest  affectation  or  assumption,  how  he  had  always  felt  that  a 
task  had  been  laid  upon  him,  and  that  he  intended  to  perform  it  to  the 
utmost  of  his  power,  as  far  as  his  eyes  would  permit  him.  Just  fancy, 
this  man  lives  all  alone  and  is  half  blind.  In  the  evening  he  can  never 
work  at  anything.  There  are  many  contradictions  in  Nietzsche,  but  he 
is  a downright  honest  man,  and  possesses  the  utmost  strength  of  will 
and  effort.  I asked  him  whether  he  would  like  me  to  draw  the  attention 
of  the  public  to  him  on  the  occasion  of  the  third  part  of  Zarathustra. 
He  would  not  object,  he  said,  but  he  did  not  seem  to  like  the  idea.  Such 
a contempt  for  every  extra  aid  to  success,  such  a freedom  from  all  self- 
advertisement  is  impressive.  He  is  absolutely  convinced  of  his  mission, 
and  of  his  future  fame;  this  belief  gives  him  strength  to  bear  all  his 
misfortunes,  his  bodily  sufferings,  even  his  poverty.  Of  one  thing  I am 
certain,  Nietzsche  is  chiefiy  a man  of  sentiment.”  (I  borrow  the  passage 
from  Miigge’s  Nietzsche,  His  Life  and  Work,  3d  ed.,  p.  74.) 

b It  is  from  the  standpoint  of  a larger  and  higher  idea  of  philosophy 
that  he  now  criticises  English  philosophy — see  the  references  to  Bacon, 
Hobbes,  Hume,  and  Locke,  in  contrast  with  Kant,  Hegel,  and  Schopen- 
hauer, Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 252. 

c Real  philosophers  are  here  distinguished  from  philosophical  la- 
borers, whose  work — that  of  explicating  and  systematizing  existing  and 
past  valuations — is  secondary,  however  useful.  Cf.  also  Will  to  Power, 
§ 421. 

<3  Nietzsche,  though  valuing  Hegel  more  highly  than  Schopenhauer 
did  (cf.  the  comments  on  Schopenhauer’s  “unintelligent  rage”  against 
him.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 204 ) , speaks  critically  of  his  grandiose 
attempt  to  persuade  us  of  the  divinity  of  existence  with  the  help  of  the 
sixth  sense,  the  “ historical  sense,”  thereby  delaying  the  victory  of  the 
Schopenhauer ian  atheistic  view.  Joyful  Science,  § 357. 

e He  contrasts  this  with  Romantic  pessimism,  such  as  he  finds  in  the 


NOTES 


493 


Schopenhauerian  philosophy  and  in  Wagnerian  music.  After  what  has 
been  said  in  the  text,  no  inconsistency  will  be  felt,  when,  in  claiming  to 
be  (with  the  possible  exception  of  Heraclitus)  the  first  “tragic  phi- 
losopher,” he  adds,  “ that  is,  the  extremest  antithesis  and  antipodes  of 
a pessimistic  philosopher”  (Ecce  Homo,  III,  i,  § 3). 

f In  writing  to  Brandes  of  the  new  prefaces  to  his  earlier  works,  he 
says  that  they  may  perhaps  throw  some  light  on  him,  “ supposing  that 
I am  not  dark  in  myself  (dark  in  and  for  myself),  as  obscurrissimus 
obscurorum  virorum.  . . . This  were  possible”  (Briefe,  III,  275). 

g Nietzsche’s  singular  double  attitude  to  the  world  is  daringly  stated 
in  the  last  two  lines  of  a verse,  which  may  be  put  into  rough  prose  thus: 
“ I will  be  wise  because  it  pleases  me  to  be  so, 

And  not  because  anybody  else  commands  it. 

I praise  God,  because  He  made  the  world 
As  stupidly  as  possible.” 

(TTerfce,  pocket  ed.,  VI,  427.) 


CHAPTER  XIV 

« I am  not  sure  whether  Will  to  Power,  § 545,  expresses  a view  of 
space  inconsistent  with  that  stated  in  the  text  or  not;  and  whether 
Werke,  XII,  48,  § 118,  also  expresses  a discordant  view  of  time.  On 
more  than  one  ultimate  metaphysical  point,  varying  statements  linger 
in  such  fragmentary  notes  as  we  have,  and  a final  definitive  word,  which 
would  put  an  end  to  our  uncertainty,  is  lacking. 

Walther  Lob  deals  with  “ eternal  recurrence  ” from  the  “ scientific  ” 
point  of  view,  and  presents  objections  to  it,  in  the  Deutsche  Rundschau, 
November,  1908.  I may  add  that  Nietzsche  regards  the  general  me- 
chanical view  as  useful  for  purposes  of  investigation  and  discovery,  but 
imperfect  and  provisional  {Will  to  Power,  § 1066). 

c Nietzsche  argues  that  if  recurrence  did  not  take  place,  this  would 
be  something  inexplicable  by  accident  and  a contrary  intention  would 
have  to  be  presupposed — an  intention  embodied  in  the  structure  of  the 
forces.  In  other  words,  either  recurrence  or  an  arbitrary  God ! See 
Werke,  XII,  56-7,  §§  103,  105. 

d I give  also,  with  his  kind  permission,  W.  B.  Smith’s  translation 
(originally  printed  in  Poet  Lore,  1905,  XVI,  iii,  91)  : 

“ O Man ! Give  ear ! 

What  saith  the  midnight  deep  and  drear? 

From  sleep,  from  sleep, 

I woke  and  from  a dream  profound; — 

The  world  is  deep. 

And  deeper  than  the  day  can  sound. 

Deep  is  its  woe — , 

Joy — deeper  still  than  heart’s  distress. 

Woe  saith.  Forgo! 

But  joy  wills  Everlastingness, 

Wills  deep,  deep  Everlastingness.” 

eThe  shepherd  into  whose  throat  the  serpent  (the  idea  of  “eternal 
recurrence”)  has  crawled,  bites  its  head  off  at  the  instigation  of  Zara- 
thustra  and  spits  it  out — and  laughs,  laughed  as  man  has  never  laughed 
before  (Zarathustra,  III,  ii,  §2;  in  xiii,  §2,  it  is  Zarathustra  who  has 
the  experience).  Zarathustra  chants  love  for  eternity  (III,  xvi)  ; his 
disciples,  too,  after  a festival  with  him,  are  lifted  up,  ready  to  live,  and 
to  live  again.  “Was  that  life?”  will  I say  to  death,  “Well!  once 
again ! ” ( IV,  xix,  § I ) . I take  it  that  not  the  bare  idea  of  return,  but 


494. 


NOTES 


the  idea  with  its  complex  of  consequences,  the  idea  as  a luminous  whole, 
is  w’hat  is  referred  to  in  the  passage  cited  in  the  text. 

f G.  Chatterton-Hill  quite  misconceives  Nietzsche’s  meaning  in  speak- 
ing of  eternal  life  as  wished  for,  “because  only  in  eternity  can  the 
plentitude  of  its  [life’s]  expansion  be  realized”  (op.  cit.,  p.  71). 

s For  example,  by  O.  Kiilpe,  Die  Philosophie  der  Oegenwart  in 
Deutschland,  pp.  61-2;  Meyer,  op.  cit.,  p.  207;  F.  Rittelmeyer,  Friedrich 
Nietzsche  und  die  Religion,  p.  67 ; A.  Fouill6e,  Revue  Philosophique, 
LXVI  (1909),  p.  527. 

h Nietzsche  even  has  an  early  remark  to  the  following  effect:  “The 
whole  process  of  the  world’s  history  goes  on  as  if  free  will  and  responsi- 
bility existed.  VVe  have  here  a necessary  moral  presupposition,  a category 
of  our  action.  That  strict  causality,  which  we  can  quite  well  grasp  con- 
ceptually, is  not  a necessary  category.  The  demands  {Consequent)  of 
logic  are  inferior  to  the  demands  of  the  thinking  which  accompanies 
action”  {Werke,  IX,  188,  § 129). 

i See  Meyer,  op.  cit.,  pp.  381  ff.;  Simmel  (with  an  apparently  con- 
clusive mathematical  demonstration),  op.  cit.,  p.  250  n.;  Richter  (with 
a reference  to  Cantor’s  doctrine  of  the  different  powers  of  all  quantities), 
op.  cit.,  pp.  276,  326-7.  Dorner,  however,  who,  though  not  sympathetic, 
means  to  be  just,  and  gives  us,  in  general,  criticism  of  Nietzsche  worthy 
of  the  great  theologian,  appears  to  take  a circular  course  of  things  for 
granted,  in  case  there  is  a fixed  and  constant  quantity  of  force  {op.  cit., 
p.  190). 

i Vaihinger  {Die  Philosophie  des  Als  Ob,  p.  789  n),  commenting  on 
this  remark,  suggests  that  O.  Ewald  {Nietzsches  Lehre  in  ihren  Grund- 
begriffen)  and  Simmel  may  be  right  in  thinking  that  Nietzsche  held  to 
“ eternal  return  ” as  a “ pedagogical,  regulative  idea,”  rather  than  dog- 
matically. 

k See  the  letter  to  Rohde,  July  15,  1882  {Briefe,  II,  566).  Cf.  Lou 
Andreas-Salom^,  op.  cit.,  pp.  140-2,  224;  Richter,  op  cit.,  pp.  64,  276; 
Drews,  op.  cit,  p.  326;  Ziegler,  op.  cit.,  p.  132. 

1 A.  W.  Benn,  says  that  Nietzsche  “ plagiarized  ” the  doctrine  from 
the  Stoics  ( The  Greek  Philosophers,  2d  ed.,  p.  335  n. ) . 

“ It  is  singular  that  Nietzsche  does  not  notice  what  would  ordinarily 
be  counted  a defect  in  his  view,  namely,  that  no  conscious  continuity 
between  this  life  and  the  next  is  asserted — we  do  not  remember  our 
previous  existence  and  presumably  in  our  future  state  shall  have  no 
recollection  of  this.  The  average  man  has  little  concern  about  a future 
individual,  who,  however  like  him,  is  not  himself,  i.e.,  a continuation  of 
his  present  consciousness.  I can  only  suggest  that  here  too  Nietzsche  must 
have  judged  others  by  himself.  To  him,  if  the  lives  were  identical,  if 
there  was  an  absolute  repetition  of  the  same  thing,  it  was  of  small  moment 
whether  there  was  a thread  of  memory  connecting  them  or  not.  That 
the  same  commonplace  thing  should  be  eternally  repeating  itself — this 
irrespective  of  anything  else,  was  what  depressed  him,  as  it  was  the 
possibility  of  an  eternal  repetition  of  sublime  things  that  lifted  him  up. 
For  the  moment  he,  as  it  were,  became  pure  speculative  intelligence,  intent 
only  to  know  whether  anything  going  on  in  the  universe  was  worth  while. 


CHAPTER  XV 

a It  is  sometimes  said  that  the  same  stimulus,  applied  to  different 
sense  organs,  gives  rise  to  correspondingly  different  sensations — so  H. 
Wildon  Carr,  Philosophical  Review,  May,  1914,  p.  257. 

b Cf.  the  early  remark  before  quoted:  “The  sensation  is  not  the 


NOTES 


495 


result  of  the  cell,  but  the  cell  is  the  result  of  the  sensation,  i.e.,  an  artistic 
projection,  an  image”  {Werke,  IX,  194).  Of  the  complications  in  such 
a view  from  the  physiological  standpoint  Nietzsche  is  well  aware — see 
Beyond  Good  ana  Evil,  § 15. 

c Nietzsche  finds  nothing  really  unchangeable  in  the  world  of 
chemistry — e.g.,  it  is  superficial  to  say  that  things  so  different  as  diamond, 
graphite,  and  coal  are  the  same,  simply  because  they  have  a common 
chemical  substance  and  there  is  no  loss  in  weight  in  the  process  of  trans- 
formation (Will  to  Power,  § 623). 

d As  to  the  pure  ideality  of  straight  lines,  circles,  numbers,  see 
Human,  etc.,  §§11,  18,  19;  Werke,  XIV,  34,  §68;  42-3,  §81;  also  p.  320 
(the  objects  of  mathematics  “do  not  exist”). 

e The  “ I ” is  also  spoken  of  as  an  attempt  to  simplify  our  infinitely 
complicated  nature  (W^erke,  XI,  291,  § 335),  and  again  as  the  result  of 
a doubling  process,  as  when  we  say  “the  lightning  lightens”  (ibid., 
XIV,  329,  § 164). 

f Even  to  a theologian  like  Heinrich  Weinel,  the  soul  is  no  longer 
a thing,  a “ simple  and  hence  imperishable  substance,”  such  as  science 
before  Kant  strove  to  demonstrate  (op.  cit.,  p.  6).  Nietzsche  finds  as 
little  “one  soul”  as  “two  souls”  in  our  breast,  rather  “many  mortal 
souls”  (Werke,  XIV,  37,  § 75). 

e As  to  the  falsity  of  the  outer  world,  Nietzsche  sometimes  uses 
strong  language,  but  it  is  exact  from  his  point  of  view:  it  is  a “product 
of  fantasy,”  a “ world  of  phantoms,”  “ poetry,”  “ the  primitive  poetry  of 
mankind”  (Werke,  XII,  36,  §69;  170,  § 351;  Dawn  of  Day,  § 118).  He 
thinks  that  whatever  may  be  our  philosophical  standpoint  [ordinary 
realism  he  hardly  considers  as  a philosophical  standpoint],  this  falsity 
(Irrthiinilichkeit)  is  the  surest  and  solidest  thing  we  can  still  lay  hold 
of  (Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §34).  Riehl  asks  (op.  cit.,  p.  130)  how  we 
can  speak  of  falsity,  if  we  do  not  know  the  truth;  but  one  is  a negative, 
the  other  a positive  judgment — Nietzsche  himself  observes  that  the  des- 
truction of  an  illusion  does  not  of  itself  give  us  the  truth,  but  may 
simply  make  the  field  of  our  ignorance  wider  (Werke,  XIII,  138,  §318; 
Will  to  Power,  § 603 ) . The  illusoriness  of  the  physical  world  has  been 
often  asserted,  e.g.,  by  Hume,  of  whom  Norman  Kemp  Smith  says, 
“ Hume’s  argument  rests  throughout  on  the  supposition  that  perishing 
subjective  states  are  the  only  possible  objects  of  mind,  and  that  it  is 
these  perishing  states  which  natural  belief  constrains  us  to  regard  as 
independent  existence.  Such  belief  is  obviously,  on  the  above  interpreta- 
tion, sheer  illusion  and  utterly  false”  (Mind,  April,  1905,  pp.  169,  170). 
See  also  Ralph  Barton  Perry’s  admirable  statement  of  Hume’s  view. 
Present  Philosophical  Tendencies,  pp.  138-9.  It  is  curious  that  Nietzsche 
refers  rarely  to  Hume,  and  but  twice  to  a critical  point  in  his  philosophy, 
viz.,  his  conception  of  causality  (Werke,  XIV,  27,  §49;  XVI,  51).  His 
general  view,  however,  might  well  receive  the  epithet,  “ psychologism  ” 
with  which  Perry  characterizes  Hume’s  view — or  even  a stronger  and 
still  more  barbarous  one,  viz.,  “ biographism,”  for  he  says,  “ Man  may 
reach  out  as  far  as  he  will  with  his  knowledge  and  seem  to  himself  as 
objective  as  possible — in  the  end  he  gets  nothing  from  it  but  his  own 
biography”  (Human,  etc.,  §513). 

h Simplification  is  spoken  of  as  “ the  chief  need  ” of  organic  existence, 
Werke,  XII,  46,  § 83;  cf.  10,  § 18.  On  the  illusion  of  identity,  see  ibid., 
XIV,  22,  §38;  33,  §66;  35,  §70.  Nietzsche  had  maintained  early  in  his 
career  that  logic  rested  on  presuppositions  to  which  nothing  in  the  actual 
world  corresponds,  e.g.,  that  of  the  likeness  of  things,  and  that  of  the 
identity  of  the  same  thing  at  different  points  of  time  (Human,  etc.,  § 11; 
The  Wanderer  etc.,  §12;  Werke,  XI,  179,  §65). 

‘Error  (i.e.,  opinions  born  of  subjective  need  and  posited  as  objective 


496 


NOTES 


realities)  is,  indeed,  so  much  in  possession  of  the  field  and  has  become 
so  inwrought  into  the  human  constitution,  that  truth,  even  when  it  is 
born,  can  hardly  live  save  in  combination  with  it,  being  too  forceless  of 
itself  (Werlce,  XII,  47,  §85;  cf.  XIV,  269,  §40,  where  is  the  strong 
statement,  “ as  bloom  belongs  to  the  apple,  so  does  falsehood  belong  to 
life”).  Error  of  a certain  sort  is  even  spoken  of  as  a presupposition  of 
knowledge,  e.g.,  ideas  of  “ being,”  “ identity,”  “ substance,”  “ permanence,” 
the  “unconditioned”;  they  are  all  “logical  fictions”  {Werke,  XII,  23, 
§39;  24,  §41;  46,  §82;  48,  §89;  208,  § 442;  XIV,  29,  §53;  31,  §59; 
Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 4 ) , but  at  the  same  time  standards  by  which 
w'e  measure  and  judge  things.  Though  we  have  discovered  our  errors,  we 
are  often  none  the  less  obliged  to  act  according  to  them  and  as  if  we 
believed  them  (Werke,  XIII,  224,  § 284) — they  are  imbedded  in  language 
and  we  cannot  get  rid  of  them  (Werke,  XI,  180,  § 69;  The  Wanderer  etc., 
§11).  Nietzsche  himself  frequently  speaks  of  sensible  phenomena  as  inde- 
pendent realities,  like  the  rest  of  us. 

i Knowledge  ( in  this  sense ) may  be  something  that  only  the  phi- 
losopher, who  is  conceived  of  as  the  strongest  type  of  man,  can  endure; 
Nietzsche  distinguishes  between  what  is  necessary  for  the  philosopher 
and  for  most  men  (Werke,  XV,  1st  ed.,  294  ff). 

k At  the  same  time  there  is  a note  of  pathos  in  saying  this.  It 
appears  also  in  the  exclamation,  “ Ah ! we  must  embrace  untruth,  and 
now  the  error  becomes  lie  and  the  lie  a condition  of  life”!  (Werke,  XII, 
48,  § 87 ) . He  had  said  earlier,  “ A question  lies  heavy  on  the  tongue 
and  does  not  wish  to  be  articulate:  can  man  consciously  hold  to  untruth, 
and,  if  he  must,  is  not  death  preferable?”  (Human,  etc.,  §34).  I need 
scarcely  say  that  Nietzsche  does  not  mean  that  all  illusions  or  errors 
are  beneficial — he  notes  that  some  may  be  harmful,  even  if  they  make 
happy  for  a time  (cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  453-4). 

1 How  far  a view  of  this  sort  resembles  Pragmatism,  I leave  to  those 
better  acquainted  with  the  latter  than  I to  say.  Rene  Berthelot,  while 
remarking  that  Nietzsche  did  not  know  the  term  Pragmatism,  calls  him 
the  first  to  perceive  distinctly  a great  part  of  the  ideas  currently  so 
designated  (TJn  romantisme  utilitaire,  p.  33;  see,  however,  A.  W.  Moore’s 
critical  comment,  Philosophical  Review,  November,  1912,  pp.  707-9). 
Richard  Miiller-Frienfels  finds  expressed  in  Nietzsche  “the  thoughts 
which  have  grown  into  a system  as  Pragmatism  in  America,  as  Human- 
ism in  England,  and  which  in  Germany  has  much  that  is  kindred  to 
them,  above  all  in  the  biological  theory  of  knowledge  of  Mach,  Avenarius, 
Jerusalem,  Simmel,  Vaihinger,  and  others”  (Archiv  fiir  Geschichte  der 
Philosophie,  April,  1913,  pp.  339-58).  W.  Eggenschwyler,  on  the  other 
hand,  emphasizes  the  contrasts  between  Nietzsche  and  James’s  views  in 
an  article,  “War  Nietzsche  Pragmatist?”  (ihid.,  October,  1912,  pp.  35-47). 

“ See  Will  to  Power,  § 503,  where  it  is  said  that  the  whole  apparatus 
of  so-called  knowledge  is  an  apparatus  for  abstracting  and  simplifying — 
its  aim  being  not  knowledge  proper,  but  acquiring  control.  So  practical 
interpretation  is  distinguished  from  explanation  in  ihid.,  § 604;  and  ordi- 
nary logic  is  treated  as  a falsifying  process  (proceeding  as  it  does  on 
the  supposition  of  identical  cases) — it  does  not  come  from  a will  to  truth 
(ihid.,  §512).  At  other  times  he  departs  from  this  strict  conception 
of  knowledge.  In  one  place  he  even  denies  that  there  is  any  pure, 
will-less  subject  of  knowledge  (Genealogy  etc..  Ill,  §12)  ; and  in  another 
he  calls  it  a fatal  mistake  to  posit  a peculiar  impulse  to  knowledge 
(which  goes  blindly  after  truth,  without  reference  to  advantage  or 
injury),  and  then  to  separate  from  it  the  whole  world  of  practical 
interests  (Will  to  Power,  § 423).  But  the  inconsistencies  are  no  greater 
than  in  his  varying  views  of  truth,  and  in  efifect  correspond  to  them. 
Nietzsche  does  not  reach  a definitive  position  here,  any  more  than  at 


NOTES 


497 


some  other  points  in  his  thinking;  in  the  main,  however,  he  holds  to  the 
old  theoretic  meanings  of  knowledge  and  truth,  simply  urging  that  it 
is  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  attain  knowledge  and  truth  actually. 

n Nietzsche  is  skeptical  of  the  objective  character  of  what  goes  by 
the  name  of  history — it  is  more  interpretation  than  fact  (Werlce,  XIII, 
64,  § 158;  XIV,  146,  § 303;  Philologica,  I,  329). 

o Cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 12,  where  the  new  psychologist,  after 
putting  an  end  to  superstition  about  the  soul  and  falling  into  a new 
desert  and  mistrust,  is  described  as  learning  at  last  to  invent  and,  who 
knows?  perhaps  to  find. 

p Richter  {op.  cit.,  p.  282)  refers  to  a passage  (TFerfce,  XV,  1st  ed., 
p.  295),  in  which  Nietzsche  speaks  of  our  not  receiving,  but  ourselves 
positing  sense-perceptions.  But  the  perceptions,  I take  it,  are  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  the  stimuli  {Reize)  that  give  rise  to  them — the  former 
we  do  produce,  but  the  latter  we  receive.  The  point  with  Nietzsche  is 
that  our  sensations  or  sense-perceptions  are  not  impressions  (hence  copies, 
or  at  least  as  much  like  the  original  as  the  image  which  a die  leaves  in 
the  wax  is  to  the  die) — that  we  actively  create  them.  See  Nietzsche’s  early 
discussion  of  the  subject,  summarize  ante,  pp.  50-1;  also  a late  utter- 
ance quoted  by  Meyer  {op.  cit.,  p.  589),  “In  all  perception  . . . what 
essentially  happens  is  an  action,  still  more  exactly  an  imposing  of  forms 
{Formen-Aufzwingen)  : only  the  superficial  speak  of  ‘impressions.’” 

3 Cf.,  as  to  deductions  from  moral  needs,  reflections  on  Kant,  Will 
to  Power,  §410;  on  Hegel,  ihid.,  §416;  on  philosophers  in  general. 
Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §6;  Will  to  Power,  §412.  As  to  conclusions 
from  needs  of  happiness,  comfort,  etc.,  see  Will  to  Power,  §§  425,  36, 
171-2,  455;  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 210;  Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 1;  III,  § 24. 
Nietzsche  even  calls  the  “ desirable  ” a canon  without  meaning  in  relation 
to  the  world  as  a totality  {Will  to  Poioer,  §§  709,  711).  Nor  are  clearness 
and  irrefutableness  really  marks  or  standards  of  truth.  To  hold  that 
clearness  proves  truth  is  childishness — unclear  ideas  may  be  nearer  truth 
{ihid.,  § 358).  As  to  irrefutableness,  see  ihid.,  §§  535,  541. 

r In  Will  to  Poioer,  § 598,  the  idea  that  there  is  no  truth  (called  the 
nihilistic  belief)  is  treated  as  a recreation  for  the  warrior  of  knowledge 
who  is  ever  in  struggle  with  ugly  truths — with  the  implication,  then, 
that  after  the  recreation  he  will  go  on  with  the  struggle. 

3 Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 604  (there  is  no  datum,  everything  being  fluid, 
unseizable,  the  most  permanent  thing  being  our  opinions ) . In  one  place 
{Werke,  XIII,  49,  §120)  he  even  proposes — following,  I imagine,  the 
extreme  views  of  Lange — to  do  away  with  the  distinction  between  phe- 
nomena and  things  in  themselves  (cf.  Vaihinger’s  summary  statement  of 
Lange’s  views.  Die  Philosophie  des  Als  Oh,  pp.  756-7). 

t Cf.  Dorner’s  happy  statement  of  Nietzsche’s  view:  “In  this  actual 
world  there  are  no  individuals,  no  species,  and,  strictly  speaking,  also 
no  wills,  but  only  actions  and  reactions,  centers  of  action  and  reaction, 
and  the  word  ‘ world  ’ signifies  only  the  total  aspect  of  these  actions  ” 
{op.  cit.,  pp.  137). 

a See  the  striking  summary  paragraph,  Will  to  Poioer,  § 567 : Each 
center  of  force  has  its  perspective  for  the  rest  of  the  world,  i.e.,  its  quite 
definite  valuation  and  way  of  acting  and  resisting.  The  “ apparent 
world  ” reduces  itself  to  specific  sorts  of  action  proceeding  from  such 
centers.  The  “ world  ” is  only  a word  for  the  total  play  of  such  actions. 
Reality  consists  in  just  this  particular  sort  of  action  and  reaction  of 
each  individual  to  the  whole.  There  hence  remains  no  shadow  of  right 
to  speak  here  of  appearance.  There  is  no  “ other,”  no  “ true,”  no  essen- 
tial being — therewith  would  be  designated  a world  without  action  and 
reaction.  The  contrast  between  the  apparent  and  the  “ true  ” world  hence 
becomes  the  contrast  between  “ world  ” and  “ nothing.”  Cf.  also  ihid.. 


498 


NOTES 


§ 708  (becoming  is  not  appearance;  it  is  perhaps  the  world  of  being  that 
is  appearance). 

V By  will  Nietzsche  means  not  so  much  a fixed  entity  or  faculty,  as 
a moving  point — he  speaks  of  “ Willens-Punktationen  ” that  continually 
increase  or  lose  their  power  {ibid.,  §715).  Again,  though  a who  that 
feels  pleasure  and  wills  power  (i.e.,  a single  subject)  is  not  necessary, 
there  must  be  contrasts,  oppositions,  and  so  relative  unities  {ibid.,  § 693). 
When  Nietzsche  rejects  will  as  illusion  (cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 19), 
Richter  remarks  that  he  has  in  mind  the  consciously  aiming  will,  con- 
ceived'as  something  simple  {op.  cit.,  p.  225).  On  the  other  hand,  Nietz- 
sche uses  will  distinctly  in  the  sense  of  something  that  selects  and  accom- 
plishes {Will  to  Power,  § 662),  and  expressly  dissents  from  Schopen- 
hauer’s view  of  the  will  as  desire  and  impulse  merely — will,  he  says,  deals 
with  ordinary  impulses  as  their  master  {ibid.,  §§  84,  95,  260,  668).  Still 
he  does  occasionally  speak  of  will  to  power  as  desire  {ibid.,  §619).  Ulti- 
mately it  is  neither  a being  or  a becoming,  but  a pathos — from  which  a 
becoming  or  an  action  results  {ibid.,  § 635;  cf.  Werke,  XIII,  210,  § 483). 

w I am  compelled  to  borrow  here  from  Riehl  {op.  cit.,  p.  60).  Indeed, 
Nietzsche  still  says  that  the  view  that  every  object  seen  from  within  is  a 
subject,  belongs  to  the  past  {Will  to  Power,  § 474;  he  probably  means 
a conscious  subject,  or  else  uses  subject  in  the  technical  sense  already 
criticised).  On  the  other  hand,  in  ibid.,  § 658,  he  speaks  of  “thinking, 
feeling,  willing  in  all  that  lives,”  and  in  Zarathustra,  IV,  xi,  he  comes 
near  popular  animism  in  speaking  of  the  pine  tree  as  reaching  after 
power,  commanding,  victorious,  etc. — though  the  language  may  be  taken 
as  poetical. 

•V  Julius  Bahnsen,  an  early  follower  of  Schopenhauer,  seems  to  have 
had  a similar  view,  reality  being  taken  by  him  as  “a  living  antagonism 
of  mutually  crossing  forces  or  acts  of  will”  {Der  Widerspruch,  I,  436). 
The  term  “ Voluntarism,”  Rudolf  Eisler  says,  was  first  used  by  Ferdinand 
Tonnies  in  1883,  Paulsen  in  1892  having  brought  it  into  currency  {zur 
Oeltung)  ; cf.  Eisler’s  Worterbuch  der  philosophischen  Begriffe,  art., 
“ Voluntarismus.”  Wundt’s  view,  as  stated  by  Kiilpe  {Die  Philosophie 
der  Gegenwart  in  Deutschland,  3d  ed.,  pp.  102-3 ) , and  also  the  reasoning 
by  whieh  he  arrives  at  it,  are  in  general  like  Nietzsche’s:  “All  ideas 
{Vorstellungen)  of  objects  rest  on  an  eflect  that  the  will  experiences; 
it  suffers  in  that  it  is  affected,  and  it  is  [in  turn]  active  in  that  the 
suffering  stirs  it  to  an  idea-producing  activity.  The  object,  however, 
that  affects  the  ego  is  in  itself  unknown.  We  can  only  infer  from  our 
experience  that  what  causes  {erregt)  suffering  must  itself  be  acting. 
Since  there  is  absolutely  no  other  activity  known  to  us  than  that  of 
our  will,  we  can  trace  our  suffering  back  only  to  some  foreign  will,  and 
so  what  happens  in  general  to  the  reciprocal  action  of  different  wills. 
The  world  may  therefore  be  interpreted  as  the  totality  of  will-activities, 
which  in  the  course  of  their  determination  of  one  another  . . . come  to 
arrange  themselves  in  a developmental  series  of  will-unities  of  varied 
content.” 

y If  we  bear  this  in  mind,  we  may  to  a certain  extent  explain  Nietz- 
sche’s apparently  contradictory  views  as  to  the  place  of  conscious  will 
in  man  (and  in  the  world  in  general).  He  uses  “will”  sometimes  in 
the  sense  of  conscious  will,  in  which  sense  it  is  not  universal  or  elementary 
(cf.  Dawn  of  Day,  § 124),  but  again  as  practically  identical  with  natural 
forces,  the  urge  and  inner  ground  of  all  life  and  activity.  In  his  view, 
consciousness  plays  little  part  in  physiological  adaptations  and  organiza- 
tion— it  is  a fitful,  broken,  atomistic  thing  at  best  and  more  a resultant 
than  a cause  (cf.  Will  to  Power,  §§  523,  526).  It  comes  when  there  is 
need  of  it,  and  is  used  by  deeper  forces  that  may  in  turn  dispense  with 
it,  when  it  has  done  its  work.  It  is  these  deeper  forces  that  are  will 


NOTES 


499 


proper  (i.e.,  something  commanding,  imperative,  bent  on  rule),  the  same 
in  nature  as  in  man.  I do  not  mean  that  considerations  of  this  sort  meet 
all  difficulties:  some  of  his  contradictions  are  perhaps  incapable  of  reso- 
lution, e.g.,  that  between  a mechanistic  and  a teleological  view  of  life. 
Nietzsche  is  now  inclined  in  one  way  and  now  in  another  (cf.  Werke, 
XIV,  353,  §215,  with  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §36;  Werke,  XIII,  170, 
§ 392;  Will  to  Power,  § 712).  Still  his  drift  as  a whole,  and  indeed  the 
particular  significance  of  his  doctrine  of  will  to  power,  are  anti- 
mechanistic.  In  ibid.,  § 712,  he  almost  suggests  the  Bergsonian  view, 
“Absolute  exclusion  of  mechanism  and  matter:  both  only  forms  of  ex- 
pression for  the  lower  stages,  the  least  spiritual  shape  that  the  will  to 
power  takes”  (“die  entgeistigste  Form  des  Affekts,  des  ‘ Willens  zur 
Macht  ’ . Had  Nietzsche  lived  longer,  he  might  have  produced  an 

articulated  view  to  this  effect. 

z It  must  be  admitted  that  §§  563,  565  of  Will  to  Power  derive  quality 
from  differences  of  quantity,  the  contradiction  being  only  obviated  if 
“ quality  ” here  means  something  different  from  what  it  does  in  § 564, 
namely,  a more  or  less  sesthetic  valuation,  a human  idiosyncrasy.  It 
must  be  remembered  that  the  grouping  of  paragraphs  in  MHll  to  Poiver 
is  the  work  of  a later  editor. 

aa  This  does  not  mean  that  Nietzsche  did  not  recognize  the  influence 
of  environment — see  his  remarks  on  the  shaping  of  races,  Werke,  XIV, 
233,  § 787.  All  the  same,  “ the  psychology  of  these  M.  Flauberts  is 
in  summa  false:  they  see  always  simply  the  action  of  the  outer  world 
and  the  ego  being  formed  (quite  as  Taine?), — they  know  only  the  weak 
in  will,  in  whom  desire  takes  the  place  of  will”  (ibid.,  XIV,  199,  §391). 
Again,  “ The  theory  of  environment,  now  the  Parisian  theory  par  ex- 
cellence, is  itself  a proof  of  a fateful  disgregation  of  personality”  (ibid., 
XIV,  215,  § 434).  Cf.  Dorner’s  comment,  op.  cit.,  p.  139. 

bi)The  sexual  instinct  is  viewed  in  Will  to  Power,  § 680,  not  as  a 
mere  necessity  for  the  race,  but  as  an  expression  of  the  strength  or  power 
of  the  individual,  a maximal  expression  of  power,  which  is  superficially 
inconsistent  with  the  view  of  propagation  as  the  result  of  limited  power 
expressed  in  ibid.,  § 654. 

Nietzsche  argues  against  Darwinism  that  the  utility  of  an  organ 
does  not  explain  its  rise,  since  during  the  greater  part  of  the  time  it  was 
forming,  it  may  neither  have  preserved  the  individual  nor  been  useful  to 
him,  least  of  all  in  the  struggle  with  outer  conditions  and  enemies  (Will 
to  Power,  § 647 ; cf.  Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 12,  where  it  is  explained  that 
the  origin  of  a thing  may  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  use  to  which  it 
is  put  by  a superior  power). 

dd  There  is  no  mechanical  necessity  in  the  relation  of  the  parts  of  an 
organism — much  may  be  commanded  that  cannot  be  fully  performed; 
hence,  strain,  e.g.,  of  the  stomach  (Werke,  XIII,  170,  § 392;  cf.  172, 
§ 394). 

ee  The  statement  in  the  paragraph  cited,  “ not  ‘ increase  of  conscious- 
ness,’ but  heightening  of  power  is  the  end,”  may  possibly  be  directed 
against  Fouillee,  who  also  put  will  at  the  basis  of  things,  but  “ will  for 
consciousness”  (according  to  A.  Lalande,  Philosophical  Review,  May, 
1912,  p.  294). 

ff  Nietzsche  thinks  that  in  a way  pleasure  rests  on  pain,  being  the 
sense  of  an  obstacle  that  has  been  overcome.  If  the  pleasure  is  to  be 
great,  the  pain  must  be  long,  the  tension  of  the  bow  extreme  ( Will  to 
Power,  § 658;  cf.  §§  661,  694,  699).  Pain,  while  different  from  pleasure, 
is  not  then  its  exact  opposite;  in  will  to  pleasure,  there  is  involved  will 
to  pain  (ibid.,  §§  490,  505,  669).  He  even  goes  so  far  as  to  say,  “in 
itself  there  is  no  pain”  (ibid.,  § 699);  Schopenhauer  had  asserted  the 
relativity  of  pain,  but  to  the  will  (not  necessarily  to  the  intellect). 


500 


NOTES 


Nietzsche  does  not  think  that  pleasure  and  pain  cause  anything,  being 
simply  accompaniments  of  processes  that  would  go  on  without  them 
(ibid.,  § 478).  In  accordance  with  this  general  view  of  the  nature  and 
necessity  of  pain,  is  a remark  to  the  effect  that  the  simple  unsatisfaction 
of  our  impulses  (hunger,  sex,  or  the  impulse  to  move)  contains  nothing 
to  lower  our  pitch — rather  works  to  stimulate  us  (ibid.,  §§  697,  702). 
There  are  two  kinds  of  pain,  one  that  acts  as  a stimulus  to  the  sense 
of  power,  another  that  arises  after  the  expenditure  of  power;  and  to 
these  correspond  two  kinds  of  pleasure,  one  such  as  we  have  in  going 
to  sleep  in  a state  of  exhaustion,  the  other  the  pleasure  of  victory  (ibid, 
§ 703). 

eg  Nietzsche  even  speaks  of  a “thinking”  [i.e.,  the  equivalent  of  our 
thinking]  in  the  pre-organic  world  and  calls  it  an  enforcing  of  forms 
there,  as  in  the  case  of  the  crystal.  In  our  thinking  the  essential  thing  is 
the  putting  of  new  material  into  old  schemata  ( = Procrustes  bed ) 
(Will  to  Power,  § 499). 

bh  Cf.  Nietzsche’s  own  statement:  “To  become  artist  (creating),  saint 
(loving),  and  philosopher  (knowing)  in  one  person — my  practical  aim” 
(Werke,  XII,  213,  § 448).  The  passage  is  perhaps  reminiscent  of  his 
early  aspiration,  but  this  changed  in  form  more  than  in  substance.  He 
says,  indeed,  in  Ecce  Homo  (preface,  § 2)  that  he  is  a disciple  of  Dionysus 
and  would  rather  be  a satyr  than  a saint,  but  he  here  means  by  “ saint  ” 
one  who  turns  his  back  on  life.  Even  asceticism  Nietzsche  did  not  alto- 
gether discountenance,  but  the  sort  he  favors  was  in  the  interests  of  life, 
not  against  it.  Those  whom  he  regards  as  the  supreme  type  of  men 
practise  this  kind  of  asceticism  and  find  their  pleasure  in  it  (The  Anti- 
christian, §57).  In  speaking  of  the  future  “lords  of  the  earth”  (who 
are  to  replace  God  for  men  and  win  the  unconditional  confidence  of  the 
ruled)  he  emphasizes  first  “their  new  sanctity  (Heiligkeit) , their  re- 
nunciation of  happiness  and  comfort”  (Werke,  pocket  ed.,  VII,  486,  § 36). 
Purity  and  renunciation  (of  some  kind)  are  the  essential  elements  in 
the  concept  of  the  saint  (cf.  the  sympathetic  portrayal  of  the  saint  as 
representing  the  highest  instinct  of  purity  in  Beyond  Good  and  Evil, 
§ 271,  also  Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 6;  and  the  description  of  the  redemptive 
man  of  great  love  and  great  contempt,  who  must  sometime  come,  at  the 
close  of  § 24  of  Genealogy  etc.,  II ) . 

'•  With  this  view  of  will  to  power  as  the  essence  of  the  world, 
accident  may  be  looked  at  from  a new  point  of  view.  It  is  true  that  each 
center  of  power  lives  and  acts  in  the  midst  of  a realm  of  the  accidental; 
but  this  accident  itself  turns  out  to  be  the  action  of  other  centers  of 
power.  Accident  really  means  then  no  more  than  that  my  will  to  power 
is  crossed  by  somebody  else’s  will  to  power.  It  would  seem  to  follow 
then  that  if  the  power  of  the  world  could  be  organized,  accident  would 
disappear.  Nietzsche  does  not  draw  the  conclusion,  and  perhaps  would 
have  regarded  such  a consummation  undesirable;  but  the  conclusion 
seems  inevitable. 

CHAPTER  XVI 

a In  another  way  the  variety  and  freedom  of  individual  opinion  is, 
to  Nietzsche,  an  advantage  (cf.  the  tone  of  Werke,  XI,  196,  § 102;  371-2, 
§ 566).  The  greater  the  range  of  difference,  the  more  likelihood  of  finding 
at  last  a view  that  may  unite  mankind  again  (cf.  the  striking  language 
with  which  he  describes  the  competition  of  all  egos  to  find  the  thought 
that  will  stand  over  mankind  as  its  star,  Werke,  XII,  360,  § 679). 

t>  Fouill^e  remarks  that  Guyau  felt  the  same  as  Nietzsche  as  to  the 
need  of  a critique  of  morality,  and  that  he  himself  had  criticised  Kant 
on  this  score  (in  his  Critiques  des  systemes  de  morale  contemporaine. 


NOTES 


501 


1883),  as  had  Renouvier  and  Charles  Secretan  before  him — see  his  Nietz- 
sche et  VImmoralisme,  pp.  54-5. 

c E.  and  A.  Horneffer  refer  to  Wundt,  Liebmann,  and  Riehl,  as  well 
as  Kant,  Schopenhauer,  and  Lotze,  as  holding  that  morality  is  something 
well-established  and  known — the  only  questions  open  being  as  to  its 
formulation  or  the  basis  to  be  given  to  it  (Das  klassische  Ideal,  pp. 
213-8).  A recent  writer  on  Nietzsche  speaks  of  “moral  axioms”  (H.  L. 
Stewart,  Nietzsche  and  the  Ideals  of  Modern  Germany,  pp.  87,  107 ) . 

<i  A passage  from  Emerson  may  be  quoted  here : “ Now  shall  we, 
because  a good  nature  inclines  us  to  virtue’s  side,  say,  there  are  no 
doubts  and  lie  for  the  right?  Is  life  to  be  led  in  a brave  or  in  a cowardly 
manner,  and  is  not  the  satisfaction  of  the  doubts  essential  to  all  manliness? 
Is  the  name  of  virtue  to  be  a barrier  to  that  which  is  virtue?”  (“Mon- 
taigne,” in  Representative  Men). 

e William  James  once  confessed  something  of  this  feeling  to  me.  The 
fact  that  morality  (as  ordinarily  understood)  is  something  customary, 
plays  a part,  no  doubt,  in  rendering  it  uninteresting,  Nietzsche  remarking 
that  what  is  expected,  usual,  neutral  for  the  feelings,  makes  the  greater 
part  of  what  the  people  calls  its  Sittlichkeit  (Werke,  XI,  212,  § 133). 

f Cf.,  for  example,  the  qualifications  he  makes  in  offering  his  ety- 
mological derivation  of  moral  terms  in  Genealogy  of  Morals,  1,  and  what 
is  implied  in  speaking  of  the  need  of  essays  under  university  auspices 
on  the  subject  (in  the  note  at  the  close)  ; also  the  admission  of  the 
conjectural  nature  of  his  views  as  to  the  connection  of  guilt  and  suf- 
fering (ibid.,  II,  §6),  the  origin  of  “bad  conscience”  (ibid.,  II,  §16), 
and  the  connection  of  “ guilt  ” and  “ duty  ” with  religious  presuppositions 
(ibid.,  II,  §21).  I have  already  noted  the  significance  of  the  full  title 
of  the  Genealogy  of  Morals,  namely,  Zur  Genealogie  der  Moral.  H.  L. 
Stewart,  in  attacking  Nietzsche  for  incompetence  and  “ incredible  self- 
confidence,”  hardly  bears  these  things  in  mind  (op.  cit.,  pp.  43-4). 


CHAPTER  XVII 

a Nietzsche  remarks  that  we  cannot  solve  the  problem  of  the  worth 
of  life  in  general,  because,  for  one  thing,  we  cannot  take  a position  outside 
life  (Twilight  of  the  Idols,  v,  §5;  cf.  ii,  §2). 

bCf.  Simmel’s  comments,  op.  cit.,  p.  231;  also  as  he  is  quoted  in 
Nietzsche’s  Werke  (pocket  ed.),  V,  xxxii.  See  also  Ziegler,  op.  cit.,  pp. 
180-1,  and  A.  W.  Benn,  International  Journal  of  Ethics,  October,  1908, 
p.  19.  Nietzsche’s  sister  recognizes  that  it  would  have  been  better  if  he 
had  used  expressions  like  “ amoralisch,”  “ Amoralismus  ” ( Werke,  pocket 
ed.,  IX,  XXV ).  On  the  other  hand,  Nietzsche  became  somewhat  indif- 
ferent to  misconceptions  of  his  meaning,  and  said  late  in  life,  with  a 
bit  of  malice,  that  it  had  become  his  habit  not  to  write  anything  that 
did  not  bring  those  “in  a hurry”  to  despair  (preface,  §5,  to  Dawn  of 
Day;  cf.  Werke,  XIV,  359,  § 225). 

c This  is  not  inconsistent  with  the  view  that  the  mores  to  which 
obedience  is  given  may  have  originated  more  or  less  with  ruling  persons 
in  the  distant  past,  in  accordance  with  the  possible  suggestions  of 
Werke,  XIII,  190,  § 421.  It  is  said  there,  in  a discussion  of  punishment 
considered  as  a reaction  of  the  powerful,  that  before  the  morality  of 
the  mos  (whose  canon  is  “everything  traditional  must  be  honored”) 
stands  the  morality  of  the  ruling  person  ( whose  canon  is  that  “ the 
ruler  alone  shall  be  honored”).  “Before”  here  may  mean  in  time  or 
in  rank  and  authority — I think  the  latter.  Only  if  it  means  “ earlier 
in  time,”  is  there  basis  for  Willard  Huntington  Wright’s  view  that 
morality,  as  understood  by  Nietzsche,  “ implies  the  domination  of  certain 


502 


NOTES 


classes  which,  in  order  to  inspire  reverence  in  arbitrary  dictates,  have 
invested  their  codes  with  an  authority  other  than  a human  one  ” ( What 
Nietzsche  Taught,  p.  89) — I know  no  other  passage  which  looks  that 
way.  Morality,  in  the  general  sense  now  under  consideration,  does  not 
spring,  in  Nietzsche’s  estimation,  from  the  dominance  of  any  class,  but 
from  the  necessities  of  group-life.  Indeed,  so  far  as  the  dominating 
class  shape  a morality,  it  is,  as  will  appear  later,  one  of  their  own,  more 
or  less  different  from  that  of  the  group  at  large. 

d Mos  or  Sitte  is  thereby  differentiated  from  habit  as  it  may  exist 
among  animals  (see  Wundt’s  Ethics,  Engl,  tr.,  I,  131;  cf.  also  p.  156, 
where  habit,  usage,  and  Sitte  are  distinguished). 

e Sophocles,  for  example,  describes  them  in  language  approaching  to 
accuracy  when  he  says  in  the  “ Antigone,” 

“ They  are  not  of  today  nor  yesterday. 

But  live  for  ever,  nor  can  man  assign 
When  first  they  sprang  into  being;  ” 
he  passes  into  superstition  when  he  assigns  to  them  a Divine  origin.  It 
is  to  be  noted,  too,  that  Sophocles  distinguishes  them  from  a prince’s 
“ edicts.” 

f Cf.  implications  of  this  sort  in  Werke,  IX,  164;  Human,  etc.,  §99; 
The  Wanderer  etc.,  §40;  Mixed  Opinions  etc.,  §89;  also  Genealogy  of 
Morals,  II,  § 8 (where  buying  and  selling  are  said  to  be  older  than  the 
beginnings  of  social  organization),  and  II,  §16  (where,  in  developing  a 
theory  of  “ bad  conscience,”  a wild  state  of  man,  before  individuals  came 
under  the  ban  of  society  and  peace,  is  spoken  of ) . It  may  be  noted  that 
Aristotle  spoke  of  the  “ clanless,  lawless,  heartless  man,”  as  described 
by  Homer  {Politics,  I,  ii).  Nietzsche  appears  to  have  in  mind  formless, 
roving  populations  (Genealogy  etc.,  II,  §17). 

e Only  so  can  I reconcile  passages  cited  in  the  preceding  note  with 
the  view  now  to  be  developed.  But  for  the  citations  from  Genealogy  etc., 
one  might  conjecture  that  the  idea  of  a pre-social  state  belonged  to 
Nietzsche’s  earlier  periods  alone;  he  now  even  speaks  of  the  social  origin 
and  meaning  of  our  impulses  and  affects — there  is  no  “ state  of  nature  ” 
for  them  (Werke,  XIII,  112,  § 224).  Dewey  and  Tufts  say,  “Psycho- 
logically the  socializing  process  is  one  of  building  up  a social  self.  Imi- 
tation and  suggestion  . . . are  the  aids  in  building  up  such  a self  ” ( op. 
cit.,  p.  11),  that  is,  they  too  postulate  a hypothetical  self,  not  yet  social, 
to  start  with. 

b The  group-connection  of  an  individual  appeared  also  in  the  fact 
that  one  member  of  a group  might  be  attacked  for  the  offense  of  another 
member,  though  he  himself  had  no  part  in  it,  and  that,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  guilt  of  an  individual  was  felt  by  the  group  as  its  own  (Dawn  of 
Day,  § 9 ; cf.  Dewey  and  Tufts,  op.  cit.,  pp.  28-9 ) . 

i Cf.  the  striking  language,  in  entire  agreement  with  the  primitive 
view,  of  the  late  Father  Tyrrell  (“A  much-abused  Letter”):  “In  such 
a man  [a  truly  social  individual]  the  general  mind  and  outlook  supplants 
the  personal  and  private;  the  general  ends,  interests,  and  affections 
absorb  and  transcend  the  particular;  and,  as  an  active  member  of  tbe 
social  organism,  bis  internal  and  external  energies  are  reinforced  by 
those  of  the  whole  community,  which  acts  with  him  and  through  him.” 
H.  L.  Stewart  is  misled  in  saying  that  Nietzsche  attributed  “ herd- 
morality  ” to  a late  epoch  of  decadence  and  failed  to  recognize  the  fact 
of  primitive  gregariousness  (op.  cit.,  pp.  44-6). 

j Reng  Berthelot  remarks  that  since  a large  part  of  the  content  of 
the  moral  conscience  of  individuals  is  constituted  by  the  collective  interest 
of  the  social  group  to  which  they  belong,  it  follows  that  in  order  that 
there  may  be  no  contradiction  of  duties,  there  should  be  society,  but 
not  societies,  or  that  different  social  groups  should  not  be  in  conflict. 


NOTES 


503 


“ But  to  speak  exactly,  society  does  not  exist ; what  exists  is  societies, 
that  is  to  say  different  groupings  in  which  individuals  find  themselves 
united.  To  speak  of  society  simply  is  to  use  the  manner  of  speech  of 
an  attorney-general,  not  that  of  a man  of  science  or  of  a philosopher  ” 
(Un  romantisme  utilitaire,  I,  181). 

k Cf.  a striking  picture  of  man’s  dread  of  isolation  in  early  times 
and  its  moral  significance : “ To  be  alone,  to  feel  detached,  neither  to 
obey  nor  to  rule,  to  have  the  signification  of  an  individual — this  was 
then  no  pleasure,  rather  a punishment : one  was  condemned  ‘ to  be  an 
individual.’  To  be  free  in  thinking  was  discomfort  itself.  While  we 
feel  law  and  regulation  as  compulsion  and  loss,  formerly  egoism  was  the 
painful  thing,  a real  misery.  To  be  oneself,  to  value  according  to  one’s 
own  weight  and  measure — for  this  there  was  no  taste.  Inclinations  of 
such  an  order  were  felt  as  something  insane,  since  every  distress  and 
every  fear  were  associated  with  being  alone.  Then  ‘ free  will  ’ had  bad 
conscience  for  a very  near  neighbor;  and  the  unfreer  a man  was  in  his 
conduct,  the  more  flock-instinct  and  not  personal  judgment  expressed  itself 
in  it,  the  more  moral  did  he  feel  himself  to  be”  (Joyful  Science,  § 117). 
Cf.  the  general  remarks  on  man’s  need  of  social  recognition  by  William 
James,  Psychology,  I,  293. 

1 Cf.  the  remark  of  William  James,  “ The  impulse  to  pray  is  a 
necessary  consequence  of  the  fact  that  whilst  the  innermost  of  the  em- 
pirical selves  of  a man  is  a Self  of  the  social  sort,  it  yet  can  find  its 
only  adequate  Socius  in  an  ideal  world”  (op.  cit.,  I,  316). 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

a Nietzsche  in  writing  to  Brandes  (see  Werke,  pocket  ed.,  IX,  xxvii) 
says  that  many  words  have  with  him  particular  shades  of  meaning 
(Salzen),  but  in  this  case  he  does  little  more  than  conform  to  current 
German  usage. 

b Cf . the  reference  (Dawn  of  Day,  §9)  to  those  who  depart  from 
tradition,  prompted  by  motives  like  those  which  originally  led  to  its 
establishment,  viz.,  the  group’s  good;  also  the  line, 

“ Strange  to  the  people,  and  yet  useful  to  the  people  ” 
in  “ Scherz,  List  und  Rache,”  §49  (prefixed  to  Joyful  Science);  still 
again  the  description  of  the  Schopenhauer  type  of  man  and  reformer  in 
“ Schopenhauer  as  Educator,”  sect.  4. 

c Cf.  William  Blake’s  view  of  evil  as  one  of  the  pair  of  wedded  con- 
traries without  which  there  is  no  progression  (Worfcs,  ed.  by  E.  J.  Ellis 
and  W.  B.  Yeats,  II,  63)  ; also  the  views  of  Jacob  Bohme  as  given  by 
Karl  Joel  (op.  cit.,  pp.  194-5).  Lou  Andreas-Salome  happily  states  Nietz- 
sche’s position  (op.  cit.,  pp.  199-200).  See  further.  Will  to  Poicer,  §§  1015, 
1017,  1019.  From  a slightly  different  point  of  view  Nietzsche  says 
(Werke,  XII,  86,  §168),  “We  sestheticians  of  the  highest  order  would 
not  miss  also  crimes  and  vice  and  torments  of  the  soul  and  errors — and 
a society  of  the  wise  would  probably  create  for  itself  an  evil  (6ose) 
world  in  addition.  I mean  that  it  is  no  argument  against  the  aesthetic 
nature  (Kiinstlerschaft)  of  God  that  evil  and  pain  exist — however, 
against  His  ‘goodness.’  But  what  is  goodness?  The  disposition  to  help 
and  do  good  to,  which  just  so  far  presupposes  those  for  whom  things 
go  badly,  and  who  are  bad  (schlecht)”) 

<i  Cf.  what  he  wrote  a friend  in  1881,  “ It  grieves  me  to  hear  that 
you  suffer,  that  anything  is  lacking  to  you,  that  you  have  lost  some  one — 
although  in  my  case  suffering  and  deprivation  belong  to  the  normal  and 
not,  as  for  you,  to  the  unnecessary  and  irrational  side  of  existence  ” 
(quoted  by  Lou  Andreas-SalomS,  op.  cit.,  p.  16).  Cf.  a letter  to  Brandes, 


504 


NOTES 


Brief e,  III,  302;  also  Werke,  XIII,  219,  § 469.  Matthew  Arnold’s 
“ Stanzas  in  memory  of  Edward  Quillinan  ” and  the  passage  in  New- 
man’s Parochial  and  Plain  Sermons  beginning  “ A smooth  and  easy  life  ” 
(Vol.  V,  p.  337)  may  also  be  referred  to  here. 

e Daicn  of  Day,  § 354.  Cf.  the  striking  poems,  “ To  Grief  ” and  “ To 
Life,”  by  Lou  Andreas-SalomS,  reproduced  in  Halevy’s  La  Vie  de  Fridirio 
'Nietzsche,  pp.  251  and  254;  the  first  was  dedicated  to  Nietzsche  (summer 
of  1882),  the  second  set  to  music  by  Nietzsche  (the  music  and  a transla- 
tion of  the  words  are  given  at  the  close  of  Vol.  XVII  of  the  English  ed. 
of  the  Works ) . 

f Montaigne  is  frank:  “Let  the  philosophers  say  what  they  will,  the 
main  thing  at  which  we  all  aim,  even  in  virtue  itself,  is  pleasure.  It 
pleases  me  to  rattle  in  their  ears  this  word,  which  they  so  nauseate  to 
hear,  etc.”  (Essays,  I,  xix). 

e Cf.  Werke,  XII,  90,  §177;  87,  §171  (where  love  and  cruelty  are 
said  to  be  not  opposites,  but  discoverable  always  in  the  firmest  and  best 
natures — e.g.,  in  the  Christian  God,  a being  very  wise  and  excogitated 
without  moral  prejudices)  ; also  Will  to  Power,  § 852. 

ii  Along  the  lines  of  the  “theodicy”  referred  to  earlier  (pp.  233-4) 
Nietzsche  says,  “ Whoever  believes  in  good  and  evil  [i.e.,  as  strictly  anti- 
thetical], can  never  treat  evil  as  a means  to  good;  and  every  teleological 
world-view  becomes  impossible  which  does  not  break  absolutely  with 
morality”  (Werke,  XIII,  126,  § 287). 

‘Nietzsche  has  a hard  saying  as  to  the  classical  type  of  character, 
asking  “ Whether  the  moral  monstra  [those  in  wlmm  the  ‘ good  ’ impulses 
are  alone  developed]  are  not  of  necessity  romanticists,  in  word  and 
deed,”  something  of  “ evil  ” being  required  in  the  make-up  of  the  classical 
type  ( Will  to  Power,  § 848 ) . 

3 Cf.  Mabel  Atkinson  on  vices  as  the  outgrown  virtues  of  our  animal 
ancestry  (International  Journal  of  Ethics,  April,  1908,  p.  302). 


CHAPTER  XIX 

a See  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 260;  Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 16.  Richter 
thinks  that  it  was  just  this  diversity  and  contrariety  of  moral  judgments 
today  that  led  Nietzsche  to  the  hypothesis  of  original  class  moralities 
(op.  cit.,  p.  314). 

bCf.  the  New  Testament  passage  (James  i,  27)  where  one  of  the 
marks  of  “ pure  ” religion  is  said  to  be  keeping  oneself  “ unspotted  from 
the  world,”  and  Matthew  Arnold’s  description  of  the  “ children  of  the 
Second  Birth,”  the  “ small  transfigured  band  ” 

“ Whose  one  bond  is,  that  all  have  been 
Unspotted  by  the  world.” 
in  “ Stanzas  in  Memory  of  Oberman.” 

“Emile  Faguet  (En  lisant  Nietzsche,  pp.  327-8)  makes  the  criticism 
that  there  are  not  merely  these  two  moralities,  but  an  indefinite  number. 
Riehl  (op.  cit.,  p.  117)  reflects  on  Nietzsche  in  the  same  way.  But  this 
is  superficial.  Nietzsche  explicitly  recognizes  the  numerous  types,  and 
simply  singles  out  those  that  seem  to  him  most  important. 

d Schopenhauer  in  his  Grundlage  der  Moral  used  the  term  “slave 
morality”  for  that  which  is  practised  in  obedience  to  a command  (such 
as  Kant  posited). 

“N.  Awxentieff  (Kultur-ethisches  Ideal  Nietzsches,  p.  104),  thinks 
that  the  primitive  group  was,  according  to  Nietzsche’s  view  (he  cites 
Joyful  Science,  § 23 ) , a completely  indifferentiated  mass,  homogeneous 
throughout;  but  this  is  an  exaggerated  statement.  It  is  true  that  Nietz- 
sche’s “ great  individuals  ” are  a late  product  of  social  evolution,  but 


NOTES 


505 


individuals  sufficiently  marked  off  to  lead  and  rule  have  characterized 
every  stage  of  society,  at  least  above  the  hunting  and  nomadic. 

i Dewey  and  Tufts  say,  “ The  term  good,  when  used  in  our  judgments 
upon  others  (as  in  a ‘good’  man),  may  have  a different  history  [from 
that  in  the  economic  sphere].  As  has  been  noted,  it  may  come  from  class 
feeling;  or  from  the  praise  we  give  to  acts  as  they  immediately  please. 
It  may  be  akin  to  noble,  or  fine,  or  admirable”  (op.  cit.,  p.  184).  This 
is  a beginning  along  the  line  of  distinctions  and  refinements  such  as 
Nietzsche’s,  but  only  a beginning.  On  the  other  hand,  Hoffding  thinks 
that  the  doctrine  of  master-  and  slave-morality  was  falsely  derived  (op. 
cit.,  pp.  142,  156).  It  may  be  added  that  Nietzsche  does  not  always  use 
“ gut  und  schlecht  ” and  “ gut  und  hose  ” in  the  special  senses  described 
in  the  text,  but  sometimes  quite  generally. 

e Further  descriptions  of  the  subject-class  and  their  type  of  morality 
may  be  found  in  Werke,  XIV,  67,  § 133,  and  Genealogy  etc.,  I,  § 14.  In 
Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 260,  they  are  spoken  of  as  the  “ subjugated, 
oppressed,  suffering,  unfree,  uncertain  of  themselves  and  weary.”  In 
Zarathustra,  IV,  xiii,  § 3,  their  virtues  are  described  as  resignation, 
modesty,  prudence,  and  industry. 

b Cf.  the  striking  paragraph.  Human,  etc.,  § 81,  on  the  difference  in 
standpoint  and  feeling  between  the  doer  of  an  injury  and  the  sufferer 
from  it. 

» Wundt  remarks,  “ Language  is  the  oldest  witness  to  the  course  of 
development  of  all  human  ideas.  Hence  it  is  to  language  that  we  must 
put  our  first  questions  in  investigating  the  origin  of  moral  ideas”  (op. 
cit.,  I,  23).  On  the  other  hand,  Westermarck  discards  all  questions  of 
etymology  as  irrelevant  to  the  subject,  adding,  “ The  attempt  to  apply 
the  philological  method  to  an  examination  of  moral  concepts  has,  in 
my  opinion,  proved  a failure — which  may  be  seen  from  Mr.  Bayne’s  book 
on  ‘ The  Idea  of  God  and  the  Moral  Sense  in  the  Light  of  Language  ’ ” 
{Origin  and  Development  of  Moral  Ideas,  I,  133) — apparently  a large 
conclusion  from  a slight  premise. 

3 Biehl  says  that  this  “ class  ” view  of  Nietzsche’s  is  not  a new  one — 
Paul  Ree  having  advanced  it  in  Die  Entstehung  des  Gewissens  (1885 — 
Beyond  Good  and  Evil  appeared  in  the  same  year,  but  Genealogy  of  Morals 
two  years  later ) , and  having  been  able  to  cite  as  authorities  P.  E.  Muller, 
Grote,  and  Welcker.  Nietzsche,  in  the  preface  to  Genealogy  etc.,  refers 
only  to  R^e’s  earlier  work,  Der  Vrsprung  der  moralischen  Empfindungen 
(1877),  but  Lou  Andreas-Salom4  appears  to  be  of  the  opinion  that  he 
was  none  the  less  indebted  to  Ree,  through  conversations  had  with  him 
while  the  latter  was  preparing  Die  Entstehung  des  Getvissens  {op.  cit., 
pp.  189-90).  Ziegler  traces  Nietzsche’s  view  back  to  Leopold  Schmidt’s 
Ethik  der  alien  Griechen  (1882). 

k Welcker  (quoted  by  Grote,  History  of  Greece,  II,  419  ff.)  remarks 
that  by  this  time  the  political  or  class  senses  of  “ good  ” and  “ bad  ” 
had  fallen  into  desuetude. 

1 Riehl  argues  that  a process,  which  is  supposed  to  be  typical,  ought 
always  to  be  met  with  under  similar  circumstances,  and  asks,  “ But 
where  among  the  Greeks  is  the  ‘ slave-morality  ’ to  be  found  along  with 
their  master-morality”  {op.  cit.,  p.  119)  ? The  argument  is  plausible,  but 
slightly  wooden,  for  tendencies  may  exist  even  if  the  eonditions  are  not 
present  which  allow  them  to  go  into  effect.  Even  so,  there  are  not 
wanting  signs  that  something  like  a “slave-morality”  showed  its  begin- 
nings in  Greece.  If  what  Callicles  says  in  Plato’s  “ Gorgias  ” relates  at 
all  to  matter  of  fact,  the  mass  did  sometimes  endeavor  to  put  through 
their  own  point  of  view  and  make  laws  and  moral  distinctions  in  their 
own  interest.  This  “ accomplished  Athenian  gentleman,”  as  Jowett  speaks 
of  him — at  least  a representative  of  the  old  order  and  out  of  humor  with 


506 


NOTES 


his  time — ogives  it  as  his  opinion  that  it  is  the  weaker  and  more  numerous 
mass  who  are  making  the  laws  and  making  them  for  their  own  advantage, 
distributing  praise  and  blame,  too,  from  the  standpoints  of  their  own 
interests;  they  go  counter  to  old  ideas  of  what  is  just  and  right  and 
will  have  nothing  of  the  superior  privileges  of  superior  men;  equality  is 
their  watchword;  for  one  to  have  more  than  others  ( to  TrXeoveKTe'iv, 
translated,  in  misleading  fashion,  “dishonesty”  by  Jowett)  is  in  their 
eyes  shameful  and  unjust  (“Gorgias,”  pp.  483-4).  That  Callicles  did  not 
oppose  law,  but  that  kind  of  law,  is  indicated  by  his  questioning  whether 
what  a rabble  of  slaves  and  nondescripts,  who  are  of  no  use  except  perhaps 
for  their  physical  strength,  gather  to  impose,  are  laws  (489). 

“ Really  the  later  type  of  prophets,  for  the  first  ones  “ were  probably 
little  more  than  frenzied  seers”  (so  C.  H.  Toy,  History  of  the  Religion 
of  Israel,  p.  34 — see  e.g.,  I Samuel  xix,  24). 

n “ The  words  anav,  sweet,  and  ani,  poor,  both  springing  from  the 
same  root  signifying  modest,  become  in  this  limited  world  of  a fanatical 
people  synonymous.  The  concepts  poor,  afilicted,  oppressed,  mild,  re- 
signed, pious  are  no  longer  distinguished,  and  the  words  which  properly 
signify  poor  (dal,  ebion)  become  equivalent  to  holy  men,  friends  of  God. 
The  anavim  or  hasidim  form  the  elect  of  humanity;  they  are  the  sweet 
of  the  world,  the  righteous,  the  upright,  the  pious.  The  Hebrew  words 
(asir,  gadol,  avis)  become  designations  of  blame;  the  rich,  the  merry, 
the  bold  mocker  (lec)  are  for  the  pious  objects  of  the  most  furious  hate” 
(Wilhelm  Weigand,  Friedrich  Nietzsche,  ein  psychologischer  Versuch,  pp. 
58-9). 

0 Occasionally  Christian  scholars  themselves  read  between  the  lines. 
For  example,  Weinel,  after  mentioning  the  fact  that  Christianity  in  its 
first  period  lived  among  the  lower  strata  of  the  Roman  Empire,  says, 
“ We  must  grant  that  from  many  an  early  Christian  writing  there  speaks 
not  the  contempt  of  a higher  ideal  for  what  is  impure  and  common,  but 
the  hate  of  the  oppressed  and  trampled  upon,  the  persecuted  and  ex- 
ploited. One  need  only  read  the  Apocalypse  of  John  or  the  Epistle  of 
James.”  He  adds,  however,  that  this  was  contrary  to  the  principle  and 
word  of  Jesus  (op.  cit.,  p.  179). 

p In  Human,  etc.,  § 45,  Nietzsche  had  held  that  our  present  morality 
grew  up  among  the  ruling  races  and  classes.  The  later  view  developed 
in  the  text  is  contradictory — we  may  perhaps  say  that  he  came  to  see 
the  present  moral  situation  more  distinctly;  but  the  difference  may  be 
partly  owing  to  the  fact  that  in  the  passage  cited  he  conceives  of  the 
subject-classes  or  races  as  mere  heaps  of  individuals  without  fellow- 
feeling,  afraid  and  suspicious  of  every  one. 


CHAPTER  XX 

a At  the  same  time  Nietzsche  remarks  that  the  air  of  gloom  and 
severity  usually  investing  duties  may  lessen,  or  even  pass  away.  When 
duty  ceases  to  be  hard  to  us,  when  after  long  practice  it  changes  into 
a pleasant  inclination  and  a need,  then  the  rights  of  others  to  which 
our  duties,  now  our  inclinations,  correspond,  become  something  different, 
namely,  occasions  for  agreeable  sensations.  When  the  Quietists  no  longer 
experienced  anything  oppressive  in  their  Christianity  and  found  only 
pleasure  in  God,  they  took  for  their  motto  “All  for  the  glory  of  God”: 
whatever  they  then  did  it  was  sacrifice  no  longer— the  motto  might  equally 
have  been  “ All  for  our  pleasure  ” ! To  demand  that  duty  shall  always 
be  burdensome  (liistig) — as  Kant  does — means  that  it  shall  never  become 
habit  and  custom  (Dawn  of  Day,  § 339). 

b The  state,  for  instance,  did  not  arise  in  contract,  rather  in  violence. 


NOTES 


507 


l)ut  its  rights  come  in  time  to  be  recognized,  and  duties  to  it  too  (cf. 
Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 17). 

CHAPTER  XXI 

a In  another  passage  (Will  to  Power,  § 738)  he  speaks  diiferently, 
“ Every  povper  which  prohibits  and  knows  how  to  awaken  fear  in  the 
person  whom  the  prohibition  afifects,  produces  ‘bad  conscience’  (that  is, 
an  impulse  to  something  with  a consciousness  of  the  dangerousness  of 
satisfying  it  and  of  the  necessity  thence  of  secrecy,  by-ways,  precaution). 
Every  prohibition  produces  a worse  character  in  those  who  do  not  willingly 
obey  it,  but  are  only  forced.”  But  here  “ bad  conscience  ” is  little  more 
than  fear. 

'JThe  worth  of  Nietzsche’s  analysis  of  the  general  idea  of  a moral 
order  is  sometimes  recognized  in  theological  circles.  Weinel  gives  up  the 
idea,  remarking,  “ Actually  this  form  of  faith  in  God  occupies  the  whole 
foreground  of  our  religious  teaching,  so  that  not  only  the  pastor  and  the 
religious  teacher  . . . but  also  professors  of  philosophy  and  of  the- 
ology regard  it  as  the  Christian  conception.  And  even  our  ‘ atheists,’ 
who  no  longer  believe  in  God,  think  that  they  can  still  believe  in  the 
phantom  of  this  ‘moral  world-order.’  But  it  is  a phantom,  and  Nietzsche 
has  recognized  it  as  such  rightly,  and  perhaps  with  more  penetration 
than  any  one  else  in  our  whole  generation”  (op.  cit.,  p.  197). 

c The  idea  that  there  must  be  wrong  somewhere  to  account  for  suf- 
fering is  given  a curious  turn  by  those  who  charge  up  their  troubles  to 
other  people  and  find  a certain  easement  thereby.  Nietzsche  notes  the 
way  in  which  socialists  and  modern  decadents  generally  hold  the  upper 
classes  or  the  Jews  or  the  social  order  or  the  system  of  education  re- 
sponsible for  the  state  in  which  they  find  themselves:  they  want  to  fasten 
guilt  somewhere  (Will  to  Power,  § 765).  One  thinks  of  Matthew  Arnold’s 
subtle  line, 

“ With  God  and  Fate  to  rail  at,  suffering  easily.” 
d Nietzsche  dissents  also  from  the  metaphysical  manipulation  of 
“ ought,”  which  makes  it  a means  of  reaching  a transcendental  order  of 
things,  i.e.,  “ transcendental  freedom  ” in  the  Kantian  and  Schopen- 
hauerian  sense  (Will  to  Power,  § 584;  Twilight  of  the  Idols,  v,  §6). 

e It  is  true  that  Nietzsche  has  occasional  satirical  reflections  on  the 
impulse  to  obey;  cf.,  on  the  Germans,  Dawn  of  Day,  § 207;  Werke,  XIII, 
344-5,  § 855;  and,  generally,  Werke,  XI,  214-5,  § 141;  Joyful  Science,  §5. 
And  there  can  be  no  question  that  the  impulse  to  command  ranks  higher 
than  that  to  obey.  All  the  same,  he  recognizes  the  organic  place  of 
obedience  in  the  scheme  of  things. 

f In  what  seems  a similar  spirit  John  Dewey  finds  distinctions  be- 
tween men  vanishing,  when  their  common  “ birth  and  destiny  in  nature  ” 
is  remembered.  Democracy  appears  in  his  eyes  accordingly  as  “ neither 
a form  of  government  nor  a social  philosophy,  but  a metaphysic  of  the 
relation  of  man  and  his  experience  to  nature”  (Hihhert  Journal,  July, 
1911,  pp.  777-8).  This  is  democracy  with  a vengeance! 

g Cf.  the  language  to  the  working-class  of  an  American  socialist  poet 
(Arthur  Giovanitti)  : 

“ Think,  think ! while  breaks  in  you  the  dawn. 

Crouched  at  your  feet  the  world  lies  still. 

It  has  no  power  but  your  brawn. 

It  has  no  wisdom  but  your  will. 

Beyond  your  flesh  and  mind  and  blood. 

Nothing  there  is  to  live  and  do. 

There  is  no  man,  there  is  no  God, 

There  is  not  anything  but  you.” 


508 


NOTES 


h In  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 23,  he  says  that  there  are  a hundred 
good  reasons  why  any  one  should  keep  away  from  his  circle  of  ideas  who 
— can!  “We  others  are  the  exception  and  the  danger,  who  never  dare 
be  the  rule”  (Joyful  Science,  §76;  cf.  Daivn  of  Day,  § 507).  Interesting 
in  this  connection  is  an  enumeration  of  ways  in  which  antiquity  may 
and  may  not  be  useful  to  us  now:  for  example,  it  is  not  for  young 
people;  it  is  not  for  direct  imitation;  it  is  approachable  only  for  few — 
and  morals  should  comprise  some  kind  of  police  regulations  here,  as  it 
should  also  against  bad  pianists  who  play  Beethoven  (Werke,  X,  412, 
§ 273). 


CHAPTER  XXII 

a The  word  “ altruism  ” is  called  an  “ Italian  hybrid  ” by  a writer 
on  Nietzsche  in  the  Quarterly  Review  (October,  1890,  pp.  314-5)  ; accord- 
ing to  the  Grande  Encyclopcdie,  it  was  invented  by  Comte. 

b Cf . Nietzsche’s  language : “ What  is  done  from  love  is  always  beyond 
good  and  evil  ” (Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 153)  ; “ Jesus  said  to  his  Jewish 
followers,  ‘ the  law  was  for  servants — love  God,  as  I love  him,  as  his  son ! 
what  is  morality  to  us’!  ” (ibid.,  § 164)  ; “ What  is  done  from  love  is  not 
moral  but  religious”  (Werke,  XII,  289,  § 296);  and  the  description  of 
the  feeling  of  Paul  and  the  first  Christians,  “ all  morality,  all  obeying 
and  doing,  fails  to  produce  the  feeling  of  power  and  freedom  which  love 
produces — from  love  one  does  nothing  bad  (Schlimmes) , one  does  much 
more  than  one  would  do  from  obedience  and  virtuous  principle”  (Will 
to  Power,  § 176) . 

c F.  Rittelmeyer,  commenting  on  the  fact  that  Goethe’s  egoism  led 
him  to  refuse  the  importunities  of  strangers,  says,  “ That  Goethe  could 
have  committed  no  greater  crime  against  humanity  than  to  have  sacrificed 
himself  to  such  importunate  people,  and  in  this  way  failed  to  have  pro- 
duced his  immortal  works,  is  not  thought  of”  (Friedrich  Nietzsche  und 
die  Religion,  p.  93 ) . 

d This  by  J.  M.  Warbeke,  Harvard  Theological  Review,  July,  1909, 
p.  368.  Cf.  Richard  Beyer,  Nietzsches  Versuch  einer  Umwerthung  alter 
Werthe,  p.  21,  and  even  H.  Scheffauer,  Quarterly  Review,  July,  1913, 
p.  170. 

e Paul  Elmer  More  thinks  that  for  a right  understanding  of  Nietzsche 
we  must  find  his  place  in  the  debate  between  egotism  (sic)  and  sym- 
pathy, self-interest  and  benevolence,  which  has  been  going  on  for  two 
centuries,  and  devotes  nearly  a third  of  his  little  book  already  cited 
(pp.  19-47)  to  an  historical  review  of  the  contest  as  it  has  been  waged 
in  England,  mentioning  Rousseau,  Kant,  and  Schleiermacher  briefly  at 
the  close.  But  it  is  a mistake  to  range  Nietzsche  baldly  on  the  side  of 
egoism  against  sympathy,  self-interest  against  benevolence;  he  really 
leaves  that  wearisome  controversy  behind.  His  problem  is  pity,  and  pity 
partieularly  as  viewed  by  Schopenhauer.  Curiously  enough,  the  author 
does  not  even  mention  Schopenhauer  in  the  connection.  In  saying  the 
above  I do  not  forget  that  Nietzsche  opposed  the  overemphasis  on  sym- 
pathy and  altruism  characteristic  of  our  time.  Comte,  he  remarks, 
“ with  his  celebrated  formula  vivre  pour  autrui  has  in  fact  outchristian- 
ized  Christianity”  (Dawn  of  Day,  § 132).  “Our  socialists  are  decadents, 
but  also  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  is  a decadent — he  sees  in  the  triumph  of 
altruism  something  desirable”  (Twilight  etc.,  IX,  § 37;  cf.  Joyful  Science, 
§ 373).  “We  are  no  humanitarians;  we  should  never  dare  allow  our- 
selves to  speak  of  our  ‘ love  to  mankind  ’ — for  this  one  like  us  is  not 
actor  enough  or  not  Saint-Simonist  enough,  or  Frenchman  enough!  ” 
(Joyful  Science,  § 377).  He  even  regards  the  modern  softening  of  manners 
as  a result  of  decline,  speaking  of  our  “ morals  of  sympathy,  which  might 


NOTES 


509 


be  called  I’impressionisme  morale,”  as  one  more  expression  of  the  physi- 
ological oversensitiveness,  peculiar  to  everything  that  is  decadent;  in  con- 
trast, “ strong  times,  superior  cultures,  see  in  pity,  in  ‘ love  of  neighbors,’ 
in  deficiency  of  personality  and  self-feeling,  something  despicable  ” ( Twi- 
light etc.,  ix,  § 37 ) . All  this,  however,  does  not  mean  that  Nietzsche 
failed  to  recognize  the  due  place  of  sympathy  and  altruism  in  normal 
social  life. 

f Hans  B^lart  remarks  that  when  Nietzsche  criticises  morality  and 
comes  to  the  conclusion  that  it  is  the  danger  of  dangers,  we  must  remem- 
ber that  it  was  above  all  the  morality  of  his  great  teacher  Schopenhauer 
which  he  had  in  mind — a morality  that  emphasized  the  impulses  of  self- 
denial  and  self-sacrifice,  and  so  gilded  them  and  deified  them  and  made 
metaphysical  use  of  them  (verjenseitigt) , that  they  became  absolute 
values,  from  the  standpoint  of  which  he  turned  against  life  and  even 
himself.  Further,  as  Nietzsche  viewed  matters,  this  doctrine  of  denial 
and  asceticism  was  closely  interwoven  with  Christianity,  and  it  was  on 
this  account  that  he  turned  against  Christianity  (Nietzsches  Metaphysik, 
pp.  1-3).  The  antithesis  of  morality — this  type  of  morality — ^to  life  might 
be  stated  as  follows:  in  the  last  analysis  life  lives  off  other  life,  but 
morality  leads  us  to  identify  ourselves  with  other  life;  so  far  then  as  we 
do  this,  the  will  to  assert  ourselves  on  our  own  account  tends  to  vanish — 
with  a complete  identification  the  basis  of  individual  existence  would 
disappear. 

e So  Carl  Lory,  Nietzsche  als  Qeschichtsphilosoph,  p.  22.  Nietzsche 
had  said  in  “ Eichard  Wagner  in  Bayreuth”  (sect.  5)  that  one  could  not 
be  happy  with  suffering  everywhere  about  one.  This  and  the  first  three 
citations  in  the  text  belong  to  the  first  period  of  his  life,  but  as  they 
are  only  in  keeping  with  later  utterances,  it  seems  allowable  to  use  them 
here. 

iiThis  to  von  Gersdorff,  May  26,  1876  (Briefe,  I,  379).  He  wrote  to 
Malwida  von  Meysenbug,  March  24,  1875,  “ I have  wished  that  I could 
daily  do  some  good  thing  to  others.  This  autumn  I proposed  to  myself 
to  begin  each  morning  by  asking.  Is  there  no  one  to  whom  thou  couldst 
do  some  good  today?  ...  I vex  too  many  men  by  my  writings,  not  to 
feel  obliged  to  attempt  to  make  it  up  to  them  somehow”  (quoted  in 
Meyer’s  Nietzsche,  p.  666). 

i In  “ The  Use  and  Harm  of  History,”  sect.  2,  those  who  pass  through 
life  “ pitiful  and  helpful  ” are  spoken  of  with  honor,  as  well  as  other 
types.  Soft,  benevolent,  pitiful  feelings  are  classed  among  the  good 
things  once  counted  bad  (schlimme)  things  in  Genealogy  etc..  Ill,  §9. 
In  Dawn  of  Bay,  § 136,  pity  is  even  recognized  as  a self-preservative  power 
for  certain  individuals  (e.g.,  those  Hindus  who  find  the  aim  of  all  intel- 
lectual activity  in  coming  to  know  human  misery)  since  it  takes  them 
away  from  themselves,  banishes  fear  and  numbness  (Erstarrung) , and 
incites  to  words  and  actions. 

3 Nietzsche  recognizes  that  this  is  its  normal  character.  “With  alms 
one  maintains  the  situation  that  makes  the  motive  to  alms.  One  gives 
then  not  from  pity,  for  this  would  not  loish  to  continue  the  situation  ” 
(Werke,  XI,  227,  §172 — italics  mine).  Dewey  and  Tufts  are  hardly 
right  in  suggesting  that  Nietzsche  overlooks  “ the  reaction  of  sympathy 
to  abolish  the  source  of  suffering”  (op.  cit.,  p.  370 n). 

k Weinel  makes  the  following  admission : “ Let  us  ask  ourselves  if 
we  wish  to  be  pitied  by  others,  if  we  find  an  attitude  of  this  sort  toward 
us  pleasing?  . . . Even  if  Nietzsche’s  course  in  following  up  the  most 
secret  feelings  of  one  who  pities  is  dictated  by  suspicion,  and  his  thought 
or  scent  takes  him  too  far,  it  is  still  true  that  the  noblest  type  of  soul 
cannot  show  pity  without  feeling  some  kind  of  superiority  and  placing 
himself  over  against  the  other  as  the  giving  party”  (op.  cit.,  pp.  172-3). 


510 


NOTES 


1 Sometimes  he  makes  distinctions  on  the  subject.  “ ‘ On  n’est  ion  que 
par  la  piti6:  il  faut  done  qu’il  y ait  quelque  pitig  dans  tous  nos  senti- 
ments’— so  sounds  morality  at  present!  And  how  has  this  come  about? — 
That  the  man  of  sympathetic,  disinterested,  publicly  useful,  gregarious 
actions  is  now  felt  to  be  the  moral  man,  is  perhaps  the  most  general  effect 
and  change  of  mind  which  Christianity  has  produced  in  Europe;  although 
it  was  neither  its  intention  nor  its  doctrine”  (Dawn  of  Day,  132 — the 
italics  are  mine). 

™ So  a writer  whom  Dolson  quotes  (op.  cit.,  p.  100).  The  Encyclo- 
pedia Britannica,  art.  “ Ethics,”  calls  Nietzsche  “ the  most  orthodox  ex- 
ponent of  Darwinian  ideas  in  their  application  to  ethics.”  It  seems  to 
be  the  general  view,  even  Frank  Thilly  saying,  “ Nietzsche  made  this 
theory  the  basis  of  his  new  ethics”  (Philosophical  Review,  March,  1916, 
p.  190). 

“ Cf.,  e.g..  Will  to  Power,  §§  70,  647-52,  684,  685;  Twilight  etc.,  ix, 
§ 14.  One  who  wishes  a discriminating  treatment  of  the  subject  cannot 
do  better  than  read  pp.  219-38  of  Kichter’s  Friedrich  Nietzsche.  Simmel, 
in  “ Fr.  Nietzsche,  eine  moralphilosophische  Silhouette”  (Zeitschrift  fur 
Philosophie,  1906),  and  Oskar  Ewald  in  Nietzsches  Lehre  in  ihren  Orund- 
iegriffen,  deny  specifically  Darwinian  elements  in  the  theory  of  the 
superman,  though  Simmel’s  view  appears  to  be  somewhat  modified  in  his 
Schopenhauer  und  Nietzsche  (1907 — see  p.  5). 

o The  loftier  elevation,  where  pity  is  transcended,  is  portrayed  in 
these  lines: 

“ Destined,  O star,  for  radiant  path. 

No  claim  on  thee  the  darkness  hath! 

Eoll  on  in  bliss  through  this,  our  age! 

Its  trouble  ne’er  shall  thee  engage! 

In  furthest  worlds  thy  beams  shall  glow: 

Pity,  as  sin,  thou  must  not  know! 

Be  pure:  that  duty’s  all  you  owe.” 

The  transation  is  Thomas  Common’s — the  original,  with  the  title, 
“ Sternen-Moral,”  being  § 63  of  “ Scherz,  List  und  Rache,”  prefixed  to 
Joyful  Science.  Similar  sentiment  is  expressed  in  Beyond  Good  and  Evil, 
§§  271,  284;  Will  to  Power,  § 985. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

a Vernon  Lee  says  in  Vital  Lies,  “ Make  no  use  of  ‘ vital  lies,’  they  are 
vital  and  useful  only  when  they  are  accepted  as  vital  truths  ” — as  if 
being  “ accepted  as  vital  truths  ” was  inconsistent  with  their  being 
“lies  ”! 

bPaul  Cams  does  not  interpret  Nietzsche’s  attitude  to  truth  and 
science  very  finely  when  he  says  that  “ he  expressed  the  most  sovereign 
contempt  for  science,”  was  “ too  proud  to  submit  to  anything,  even  to 
truth,”  or  “ to  recognize  the  duty  of  inquiring,”  and  rejected  “ with  dis- 
dain ” the  “ methods  of  the  intellect  ” (Nietzsche  and  Other  Exponents  of 
Individualism,  pp.  5-8). 

c Even  Dolson  (op.  cit.,  p.  96),  but  not  William  Wallace  (op.  cit., 
pp.  533-4),  who,  however,  hardly  does  justice  to  the  full  import  of  Nietz- 
sche’s skepticism. 

d Cf.  Richter’s  lucid  statement:  “In  the  realms  of  values  there  are 
no  true  and  no  false  ideas,  in  the  time-honored  sense  of  agreement  or 
disagreement  of  an  idea  with  its  object.  For  there  are  here  no  objects, 
known  as  existing,  but  only  something  not  existing  in  advance,  namely, 
goals  or  ends  (Ziele)  which  are  arbitrarily  created  by  an  act  of  will. 


NOTES 


511 


And  for  this  creative  act  there  is  in  turn  no  other  regulative  than  the 
individual  will”  (op.  cit.,  p.  211). 

eThe  high  place  which  Nietzsche  gives  to  justice  appears  notably  in 
Genealogy  etc.,  II,  §1;  Will  to  Poioer,  § 967;  Werke,  XIV,  80,  §158. 
He  admits,  indeed,  that  we  can  hardly  be  just  to  ideals  which  are 
different  from  our  own  (ef.  Werke,  XII,  136,  § 263),  and  that  there  is  a 
natural  antinomy,  even  in  a philosopher,  between  strong  love  and  hate 
and  justice  or  fairness  (Will  to  Power,  § 976). 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

a Zarathustra  says  ( II,  ii ) , “ If  there  were  Gods,  how  could  I endure 
to  be  no  God  ? ” It  is  easy  to  scoff  at  such  a saying,  but  if  we  go  beneath 
the  surface,  we  see  that  it  is  only  an  extravagant  way  of  expressing  the 
deeply-felt  obligation  to  be  like  God  which  is  at  the  root  of  the  saying 
of  Jesus.  See  the  illuminating  remarks  of  Simmel,  op.  cit.,  pp.  204-5. 

Cf.  the  early  statement  in  “ Schopenhauer  as  Educator,”  sect.  6, 
beginning,  “ I see  something  higher  and  more  human  above  me  than  I 
myself  am”  (quoted  in  full  on  p.  61).  In  a way  the  impulse  rested  on 
a need — a pressing  need  in  his  case,  familiar  with  the  tragic  view  of 
things  as  he  was — the  need  of  something  joy -producing:  “Love  to  men? 
But  I say,  Joy  in  men!  and  that  this  may  not  be  irrational,  we  must 
help  produce  what  will  give  joy  ” — hence  select,  seek  out,  and  further  those 
who  do,  or  may,  and  let  the  misshapen  and  degenerate  die  out  (Werke,  XI, 
247-8,  §213). 

c No  one  has  developed  this  general  view  with  greater  thoroughness 
than  Edmund  Montgomery  (see  his  Philosophical  Problems  in  the  Light 
of  Vital  Organization,  and  numerous  articles  in  Mind  and  The  Monist ) . 
Montgomery  writes  as  a biologist,  with  at  the  same  time  the  broader 
outlook  and  the  penetration  of  the  philosopher. 

d See  the  general  line  of  considerations  in  Werke,  XIII,  181,  § 412. 
Dolson  says  that  the  existence  of  the  altruistic  instincts  was  “ admitted,” 
but  “ deplored  ” by  Nietzsche — “ one  must  conquer  them  ” (op.  cit.,  p.  100 ) . 
This,  as  a broad  statement,  is  distinctly  a mistake.  Altruism  is  only 
deplored  when  exercised  in  a certain  way.  She  is  also  mistaken  in  saying 
that  the  higher  man  in  sacrificing  himself  sacrifices  “ only  that  side  of 
his  nature  that  finds  expression  in  self-sacrifice”  (p.  101) — he  may 
sacrifice  himself  altogether,  giving  up  his  life. 

e Cf.  A.  W.  Benn,  International  Journal  of  Ethics,  October,  1908,  pp. 
19-21.  But  when  Benn  suggests  that  Nietzsche  was  prevented  from  ac- 
cepting utilitarianism  by  the  pervading  skeptical  and  negative  cast  of  his 
intellect,  aggravated  by  the  use  of  drugs  and  solitary  habits,  he  is  hardly 
sagacious. 

f For  Nietzsche’s  various  and  varying  views  of  pleasure  and  happi- 
ness, ef.  Werke,  XI,  219,  §153;  XIV,  88,  §177;  Will  to  Power,  §260 
(where  the  point  is  that  happiness  may  be  reached  in  opposite  ways, 
and  hence  is  no  basis  for  ethics)  ; Zarathustra,  prologue,  § 5 (a  description 
of  the  happiness  of  a degenerate  type  of  man ) ; Dawn  of  Day,  § 339 ; 
Werke,  XII,  148,  § 295;  Will  to  Power,  § 260  (habit,  necessity,  and  our 
own  valuations  of  things  factors  in  determining  pleasure  and  pain); 
Werke,  XIII,  208-9,  § 477  (happiness  as  distinguished  from  enjoyment, 
Genuss)  ; Dawn  of  Day,  § 108  (the  happiness  of  diflTerent  stages  of  de- 
velopment incomparable  with  one  another,  being  neither  higher  nor  lower, 
but  simply  peculiar). 

e H.  Goebel  and  E.  Antrim  do  not  take  this  into  account  when  they 
speak  (among  other  things)  of  the  “right  of  the  individual  to  obey  abso- 
lutely all  the  instincts  and  impulses  of  his  nature,”  as  “ Nietzscheanism  ” 


512 


NOTES 


(Monist,  July,  1899,  p.  571).  Nietzsche  also  expresses  himself  in  this 
way:  “The  opposite  of  the  heroic  ideal  is  the  ideal  of  all-round  develop- 
ment— and  a beautiful  opposite  and  one  very  desirable,  but  only  an  ideal 
for  men  good  from  the  bottom  up  (e.g.,  Goethe).”  This  was  written  for 
Lou  Andreas-Salom#,  and  is  quoted  by  her  (op.  cit.,  p.  25). 

Cf.  in  this  connection  the  striking  remarks  on  the  modern  educated 
man,  even  including  Goethe  (after  all  “ kein  Olympier”!)  in  Will  to  Power, 
S 883;  cf.  881.  Nietzsche’s  thought  is  that  while  the  great  men  must 
have  many  sides  and  a variety  of  powers,  these  must  all  be  yoked  together 
in  the  service  of  a supreme  aim.  See  also  the  comments  in  “ Schopen- 
hauer as  Educator,”  sect.  2,  on  two  contrasted  ideals  of  education. 

> A similar  shade  of  antithetical  meaning  appears  in  what  Zara- 
thustra  says  to  the  higher  men  who  come  to  him,  “ Better  despair  than 
surrender  [i.e.,  to  the  small  people  with  small  virtues  and  policies,  who 
are  lords  of  today].  And  truly  I love  you,  because  you  know  not  how 
to  live  today.  So  do  you  live — best!  ” {Zarathustra,  IV,  xii,  § 3).  Heinrich 
Scharren  puts  the  distinction  in  this  way:  “Not  life  as  existence  in 
general  is  the  supreme  value  to  Nietzsche,  but  life  as  will  to  power” 
(Nietzsches  Stellung  zum  Euddmonismus,  p.  47). 

5 Dorner  (op.  cit.,  p.  152)  calls  it  a contradiction  to  turn  a pure 
principle  of  nature  into  a principle  of  value.  Valuing  is  indeed  a distinct 
act  of  the  mind,  and  an  end  as  such  has  no  independent  existence,  being 
wholly  relative  to  the  mind  and  will  that  set  it,  but  why  may  not  the 
mind  give  supreme  value  to  something  actually  existing  (or  developing)  ? 

Cf . a general  critical  reflection : “ Individualism  is  a modest  and 
as  yet  unconscious  sort  of  ‘will  to  power’;  the  individual  thinks  it 
enough  to  liberate  himself  from  the  superior  power  of  society  (whether 
state  or  church).  He  puts  himself  in  opposition  not  as  person,  but 
purely  as  individual;  he  stands  for  individuals  in  general  as  against  the 
collectivity.  This  means  that  instinctively  he  puts  himself  on  the  same 
plane  with  every  individual;  what  he  contends  for,  he  contends  for  not 
on  behalf  of  himself  as  a person,  but  as  the  representative  of  individuals 
against  the  whole”  (Will  to  Power,  § 784).  What  Nietzsche  means  by 
“ persons  ” will  appear  later. 

'See  Simmel,  op.  cit.,  pp.  233-4;  cf.  p.  245  (“That  this  doctrine 
should  be  taken  for  a frivolous  egoism,  a sanctioning  of  Epicurean  un- 
bridledness, belongs  to  the  most  astonishing  illusions  in  the  history  of 
morals  ” — the  illusion  is  shared  in  striking  manner  by  Paul  Carus,  op. 

cit.,  pp.  34,  61,  104,  138).  So  G.  A.  Tienes,  “No  ordinary  egoist  can 

appeal  to  Nietzsche  with  even  an  appearance  of  right”  (Nietzsches 

stellung  zu  den  Grundfragen  der  Ethik  genetisch  dargestellt,  p.  30). 
Ernst  Horneffer  also  has  discriminating  remarks  on  the  subject,  Vortrdge 
iiber  Nietzsche,  pp.  80-1 ; and  Carl  Lory,  Nietzsche  als  Geschichts- 

philosoph,  p.  22.  As  to  Stirner,  see  Richter,  op.  cit.,  pp.  345-7 ; Riehl, 
op.  cit.,  p.  86;  Meyer,  op.  cit.,  pp.  89-90;  Dolson,  op.  cit.,  p.  95;  Ziegler, 
op.  cit.,  pp.  154,  157;  R.  H.  Griitzmacher,  op.  cit.,  p.  170.  A special  lit- 
erature has  arisen  as  to  the  relation  of  Stirner  to  Nietzsche — cf.  Robert 
Schellwein,  Max  Stirner  und  Friedrich  Nietzsche  (1892)  ; A.  L6vy,  Stirner 
et  Nietzsche  (Paris,  1904).  It  appears  doubtful  whether  Nietzsche  had 
read  Stirner’s  book  (Der  Einzige  und  sein  Eigenthum)  ; if  he  had,  its 
influence  upon  him  is  inappreciable.  Of  the  Greek  Sophists  it  may  be 
said  that  Nietzsche  unquestionably  has  points  of  view  in  common  with 
them  (see  his  own  comment  on  them.  Will  to  Power,  §§  428-9),  but  this 
should  not  obscure  for  us  the  differences.  A convenient  book  for  the  study 
of  Nietzsche’s  relation  to  the  early  Greek  thinkers  in  general,  the  Sophists 
included,  is  Richard  Oehler’s  Nietzsche  und  die  Vorsokratiker.  I may  also 
mention  Max  Wiesenthal,  Friedrich  Nietzsche  und  die  griechisehe  Sophistik, 
and  Benedict  Lachmann,  Protagoras,  Nietzsche,  Stirner. 


NOTES 


513 


Unquestionably  the  best  general  treatment  of  Nietzsche’s  positive 
ethics  thus  far  is  Eichter’s,  op.  cit.,  pp.  199-268  (see  particularly  pp.  210  if., 
239  ff.). 


CHAPTER  XXV 

aCf.,  for  example,  “Richard  Wagner  in  Bayreuth,”  sect.  11  (“Who 
of  you  is  ready  to  renounce  power,  knowing  and  feeling  that  power  is 
evil”?);  sect.  8 (reflections  on  Wagner’s  own  early  temptation  to  seek 
for  “power  and  glory”)  ; Human,  etc.,  § 588  (“We  hate  the  arrogance  of 
the  great  man,  not  so  far  as  he  feels  his  power,  but  because  he  wants  to 
feel  it  only  in  injuring  others,  domineering  over  them  and  seeing  how 
far  they  will  stand  it”)  ; ibid.,  §261  (on  the  pride  and  tyrannical  tend- 
encies of  the  early  Greek  philosophers). 

tiA  more  pertinent  incident  in  this  connection  is  mentioned  by  his 
sister,  namely  the  feeling  aroused  in  him  as  he  witnessed  a train  of 
German  cavalry,  artillery,  and  infantry  advancing  to  the  front  during  the 
Franco-Prussian  war.  He  was  deeply  stirred,  and  many  years  afterward 
said  to  his  sister,  “ I felt  that  the  strongest  and  highest  will  to  life  does 
not  come  to  expression  in  a pitiful  struggle  for  existence,  but  as  a will 
for  combat,  a will  for  power  and  supremacy”  (Werke,  pocket  ed.,  IX, 
xi).  Cf.  the  comments  on  the  incident  by  Miss  Hamblen  (op.  cit.,  pp. 
46-7),  who,  however,  appears  to  me  to  exaggerate  in  speaking  of  the 
doctrine  as  a “revelation”  or  “intuition.” 

c It  is  true  that  a different  idea  of  nature  as  involving  order  and  law 
appears  in  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 188.  There  is  also  an  early  sugges- 
tion (“David  Strauss  etc.,”  sect.  7)  of  the  possibility  of  developing  an 
ethics  along  the  lines  of  Darwin’s  conception  of  nature,  where  the  strong 
have  the  mastery  (a  suggestion  which  Nietzsche  is  popularly  supposed  to 
have  carried  out  eventually  himself — on  this  point,  see  pp.  310,  401,  437). 
In  quite  another  sense,  the  highest  type  of  man  is  once  spoken  of  as  a 
copy  of  nature,  namely  in  the  prodigality  with  which  he  overflows,  exer- 
cising much  reason  in  details,  but  prodigal  as  a whole  and  indifferent  to 
consequences  (Werke,  XIV,  335,  § 178;  cf.  Twilight  etc.,  ix,  §44). 

<i  The  articles  appeared  in  The  Atlantic  Monthly,  that  of  James  in 
the  number  for  October,  1880.  The  latter  is  reproduced  in  The  Will  to 
Believe  and  Other  Essays  in  Popular  Philosophy  (pp.  216-54). 

e Riehl  criticises:  “This  monotonous  power!  more  power!  Power 
over  what,  we  ask,  and  above  all,  power  for  what?”  (op.  cit.,  p.  124). 
Would  he  say  the  same  of  “ life  ” ? Is  it  monotonous,  save  to  the  weary, 
to  speak  of  life,  and  more  life?  Would  one  ask  of  life,  “for  what”?  Has 
it  a purpose  beyond  itself  and  its  own  utmost  development?  Yet  to  Nietz- 
sche power  and  will  to  it  are  the  concrete  and  foundation  meaning  of  life. 
I may  add  that  as  power,  or  will  to  power  is  to  Nietzsche  the  ultimate 
reality  of  things,  it  has  no  origin  (Will  to  Power,  § 690),  and  can  have 
no  outside  legitimation  (cf.  Werke,  XI,  20,  §114;  XII,  207,  §441;  XIII, 
198,  § 436;  VII,  pocket  ed.,  485,  §34). 

f Cf.  Emerson  to  the  effect  that  power  is  rarely  found  in  the  right 
state  for  an  article  of  commerce,  but  oftener  in  the  supersaturation  or 
excess  which  makes  it  dangerous  and  destructive,  and  yet  that  it  cannot 
be  spared,  and  must  be  had  in  that  form,  and  absorbents  provided  to  take 
off  its  edge  (“Power,”  in  Conduct  of  Life). 

B That  Nietzsche  himself  felt  the  difficulty  keenly  is  shown  in  Will 
to  Power,  § 685;  cf.  Werke,  XIV,  218,  § 440.  F.  C.  S.  Schiller,  in  com- 
menting on  a similar  passage  (Will  to  Power,  § 864),  says,  “The  candor 
of  the  admission  that  the  ‘ strong  ’ are  in  reality  the  weaker,  does  not 
seem  to  leave  much  substance  in  Nietzsche’s  advocacy  of  the  strong-man 
doctrine”  (Quarterly  Review,  January,  1913,  p.  157). 


514 


NOTES 


The  paradox  that  the  weak  in  combination,  by  making  laws  against 
the  strong,  prove  themselves  the  stronger,  plays  its  part  in  the  argument 
of  Socrates  against  Callicles  in  Plato’s  “ Gorgias  ” (488).  One  feels  in 
reading  the  dialogue  that  Socrates  is  the  greater  dialectician,  but  that 
it  is  chiefly  a verbal  victory  which  he  wins  over  Callicles,  who  really  has 
in  mind  a strong  type  of  man,  yet  is  not  able  to  express  himself  clearly  and 
perhaps  has  not  thought  out  his  meaning  anyway. 

* Richter  remarks  on  the  vagueness  of  the  concept  (op.  cit.,  p.  325)  ; 
cf.  Fouill^e,  Nietzsche  et  I’lmmoralisme,  II,  chap,  i,  and  F.  C.  S.  Schiller, 
Quarterly  Review,  January,  1915,  p.  167  (“He  never  unambiguously  ex- 
plains what  he  means  by  ‘ strength  ’ and  seems  to  have  no  consistent 
notion  of  it”).  But  is  not  the  vagueness  of  the  concept  partly  owing  to 
the  fact  that,  like  all  abstractions,  it  gets  its  real  meaning  in  concrete 
instances,  and  a more  or  less  varied  meaning  as  the  instances  differ? 

J So  far  as  he  attempts  an  explanation  of  the  world  in  terms  of  will 
(or  wills)  to  power,  it  is  only,  to  use  a happy  expression  of  Richter’s,  a 
metaphysics  of  the  first  degree;  what  the  real  and  ultimate  nature  of 
power  (and  will  to  it)  is,  he  leaves  undetermined,  perhaps  viewing  it  as 
an  unnecessary  question. 

k Not  that  the  possibilities  of  progress  are  infinite.  The  total  amount 
of  force,  energy,  or  power  (they  are  equivalent  expressions  to  Nietzsche) 
in  the  world,  however  great,  is  limited,  and  the  combinations  it  can 
make  and  the  heights  it  can  attain,  however  far  beyond  anything  we 
know  now,  have  their  limits  too.  When  then  the  end  is  reached,  power 
can  only  turn  on  itself,  dissolve  the  fabrics  it  has  made,  and  allow  the 
play  to  begin  again  (cf.  Will  to  Power,  §712;  Zarathustra,  III,  xiii,  §2; 
Joyful  Science,  §111).  It  is  Heraclitus’  ^Hon,  or  the  great  “world- 
child  Zeus,”  TToif  nai^uv  over  again  (cf.  “Philosophy  in  the  Tragic 
Period  of  the  Greeks,”  sects.  7,  8;  Will  to  Power,  § 797). 

1 As  to  the  inner  mechanics  of  the  evolution  of  higher  sorts  of  power 
from  lower,  I am  not  able  to  make  out  a clear  consistent  view  in  Nietz- 
sche. He  sometimes  speaks  as  if  the  higher  powers  seized  on  the  lower 
and  subjugated  them,  being  presumably  then  independent  existences 
themselves  (the  kinship  being  only  that  all  are  alike  forms  of  power)  ; 
and  yet  he  generally  uses  the  language  of  strict  evolution.  Perhaps, 
even  if  there  are  eternally  different  kinds  of  power,  this  is  not  incon- 
sistent with  the  higher  being  spiritualizations  of  the  lower,  rather  than 
of  a different  substance. 

m Mind,  for  instance,  may  have  its  ascendancy  over  matter,  just 
because  it  is  a spiritualization  of  the  same  energy  that  is  in  matter  (this 
aside  from  the  fact  that  matter  may  be  itself  only  statable  ultimately  in 
energetic  terms ) . 

a It  can  only  be  said  in  charity  that  even  those  “ who  know  ” cannot 
in  this  age  of  the  world  be  expected  to  know  everything,  especially  when 
the  subject  is  so  strange  and  multiform  a thinker  as  Nietzsche.  I give 
only  a few  of  the  many  instances  of  hasty  judgment: — The  superman 
“ will  strive  to  become  like  the  ‘ blonde  Bestie  ’ of  the  old  German  forests, 
etc.”  (J.  M.  Warbeke,  Harvard  Theological  Review,  July,  1909,  p.  373); 
Nietzsche’s  speculations,  “ if  ever  they  come  to  be  acted  upon,  would 
dissolve  society  as  we  understand  it  and  bring  us  back  to  the  ‘ dragons 
of  the  prime’”  (Bennett  Hume,  London  Quarterly  Review,  October,  1900, 
p.  338);  “‘We  have  now  at  last,’  says  Nietzsche,  ‘arrived  at  the  brink 
of  the  period  when  wickedness  shall  prevail  again,  as  it  did  in  the  good 
old  heroic  times  when  the  strong  man  scalped,  and  stole,  and  lied,  and 
cheated,  and  abducted  ’ ” ( Oswald  Crauford,  Nineteenth  Century,  October, 
1900,  p.  604)  ; “ One  must  . . . get  back  once  more  to  a primitive  natural- 
ness in  which  man  is  a magnificent  blond  beast,  etc.”  (H.  T.  Peck, 
Bookman,  September,  1898,  p.  30);  “imagined  as  Nietzsche  describes 


NOTES 


515 


him,  he  [the  Uhermensch]  reels  back  into  the  beast”  (Encyclopedia 
Britannica,  art.  “Ethics”).  So  A.  S.  Pringle  Pattison  speaks  of  this 
“ wild  beast  theory  of  ethics,”  and  finds  Nietzsche’s  message  to  be  “ Back 
therefore  to  instinct,  to  ‘the  original  text’  of  man”  (Man’s  Place  in  the 
Cosmos,  2d  ed.,  p.  317).  C.  C.  Everett,  rarum  nomen  among  American 
philosophical  writers,  who  indeed  expresses  his  perfect  agreement  with 
Nietzsche’s  doctrine  that  the  desire  of  power  is  the  fundamental  element 
of  life,  the  only  question  being  what  kind  of  a self  is  asserted,  finds 
Nietzsche’s  point  of  view  practically  “ identical  with  that  of  a robber- 
baron  of  tbe  Middle  Ages”  (Essays  Theological  and  Literary,  pp.  124-9). 
G.  Lowes  Dickinson,  in  commenting  on  Nietzsche’s  view  that  power  is 
the  only  thing  that  man  will  care  to  pursue,  says  that  a man  who  has 
a right  to  such  opinions  would  in  our  society  become  a great  criminal, 
an  active  revolutionary,  or  an  anarchist  (Justice  and  Liberty,  pp.  14-19) 
— a dictum  the  stranger,  since  the  author  himself  says  later,  “ Moral 
force  in  the  end  is  the  only  force”  (p.  217). 

0 Riehl  says,  “ The  already  proverbial  ‘ blond  beast  ’ is  not  an  ideal 
of  Nietzsche’s,  but  his  symbol  for  man  as  he  was  before  culture  was 
developed,  the  man  of  nature — his  symbol  for  a pre-historic,  pre-moral 
fact,  and  what  appeared  so  attractive  to  him  was  the  still  unbroken 
force  of  nature  there,  not  its  bestiality”  (op.  cit.,  p.  159) — a statement 
which  only  needs  correction  in  so  far  as  Nietzsche  had  in  mind  not 
primitive  man  in  general,  but  the  primitive  Aryans.  See  also  Berthelot’s 
article,  “Nietzsche,”  in  the  Grande  Encyclopedie  (a  notable  contrast  to 
the  meager  misleading  article  under  the  same  heading  in  the  Encyclo- 
pedia Britannica).  Thilly  remarks,  “He  [Nietzsche]  does  not  wish  to 
bring  back  the  ‘blond  beast’  of  early  times”  (Popular  Science  Monthly, 
December,  1905,  p.  721). 

P “ Manners,”  in  Society  and  Solitude.  Of  a similar  temper  is  the 
remark  (in  connection  with  certain  political  agitations  before  our  Civil 
War):  “If  it  be  only  a question  between  the  most  civil  and  the  most 
forcible,  I lean  to  the  last.  These  Hoosiers  and  Suckers  are  really  better 
than  the  snivelling  opposition.  Their  wrath  is  at  least  of  a bold  and 
manly  sort.” 

a Meyer,  while  speaking  of  it  as  remarkable  that  the  “ blond  beast,” 
who  is  this  and  nothing  more,  is  wanting  among  the  “ higher  men,” 
whose  hypertrophy  of  single  traits  is  portrayed  in  the  Fourth  Part  of 
Zarathustra,  adds  that  after  all  it  is  not  remarkable,  since  he  is  really 
no  higher  man,  but  only  the  condition  or  presupposition  (V orhedingung ) 
of  one  (op.  cit.,  p.  435).  What  in  part  misleads  the  reader  is  the  ap- 
parent gusto  with  which  Nietzsche  describes  the  violence  of  the  “ blond 
beast  ” in  the  first  of  the  two  passages  cited  in  the  text.  In  a similar 
way  Weinel  charges  Nietzsche  with  a thirst  for  blood,  or  at  least  with 
championing  an  impulse  of  that  sort,  because  he  portrays  with  astonish- 
ing and,  for  the  moment,  sympathetic  penetration  the  psychology  of  the 
“pale  criminal”  (op.  cit.,  p.  183;  cf.  Zarathustra,  I,  vi).  But  Nietzsche 
almost  always  becomes  a part  (for  the  time)  of  that  which  he  describes — 
that  is,  he  tries  to  take  an  inside  view  of  it.  Actually,  however,  ordinary 
deeds  of  blood  were  as  repulsive  to  him  as  to  any  one,  and  he  counsels 
no  uncertain  methods  in  dealing  with  them — his  views  of  civil  punish- 
ment really  deserve  special  treatment. 

rThe  following  are  some  of  the  trying  passages:  Zarathustra,  III, 
xii,  4,  “ A right  which  thou  canst  seize  upon,  thou  shalt  not  allow  to  be 
given  thee.”  Of  this  it  can  only  be  said  that  Zarathustra  is  here  speaking 
to  his  disciples,  who  are  to  take  his  ideal  from  the  mountain-top  down  into 
the  world,  and  that  truth  and  moral  commandments  and  the  right  to 
rule  do  not  necessarily  rest  upon  the  general  assent.  Will  to  Power, 
§§  735,  736,  the  tenor  of  which  is  that  the  weak  and  sickly  may  have 


516 


NOTES 


their  one  moment  of  strength  in  a crime  and  that  this  may  be  a justifica- 
tion of  their  existence;  also,  that  the  really  great  in  history  have  been 
criminals,  breaking,  as  they  had  need,  with  custom,  conscience,  duty — 
knowing  the  danger  of  it,  yet  willing  the  great  end  and  therefore  the 
means  (cf.  also  Werke,  XIV,  78,  § 153).  As  to  the  first  point  (cf.  also 
Werke,  XI,  250,  §216),  the  view  is  not  unlike  Browning’s  in  “The 
Statue  and  the  Bust”: 

“ I hear  your  approach — ‘ But  delay  was  best 

For  their  end  was  a crime.’ — Oh,  a crime  will  do 
As  well,  I reply,  to  serve  for  a test. 

As  a virtue  golden  through  and  through.” 

(Cf.  also  Nietzsche’s  reference  to  Dostoiewsky’s  testimony  as  to  the 
strong  characters  he  met  with  in  prison.  Will  to  Power,  § 233).  In 
judging  the  second  point,  it  may  not  be  beside  the  mark  to  say  that 
“ crime  ” is  a legal  category,  that  “ conscience  ” is  a psychological  phe- 
nomenon not  necessarily  squaring  with  the  truth  of  things,  that  “ duty  ” 
means  felt  duty,  which  may  not  be  what  one  really  ought  to  do  (sup- 
posing that  there  is  any  objective  standard) — does  not  the  Talmud  say 
that  there  is  “a  time  to  serve  the  Lord  by  breaking  his  commandments?” 
Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 158,  “ To  our  strongest  impulse,  the  tyrant 
within  us,  not  only  our  reason  subjects  itself,  but  also  our  conscience;  ” 
also  Werke,  XIII,  p.  209,  § 482,  “No  one  is  held  in  check  by  principles.” 
These  are  primarily  statements  of  fact,  and  the  truth  of  them  is  a 
question  for  psychologists.  It  may  be  said,  however,  that  the  last  state- 
ment cannot  possibly  mean  that  man’s  thoughts,  his  general  principles, 
may  not  influence  his  conduct,  Nietzsche  giving  too  many  instances  of 
a contrary  view  (cf.  Werke,  XII,  64,  § 117,  quoted  ante,  p.  175).  What 
perhaps,  Nietzsche  really  had  in  mind  was  that  “ principles,”  taken 
abstractly  and  out  of  relation  to  the  psychological  driving  forces,  are 
ineffectual — somewhat  as  Fichte  said,  “ Man  can  only  will  what  he 
loves,”  or  as  J.  E.  Seeley  spoke  of  the  expulsive  power  of  a new  affection. 
Will  to  Power,  § 788,  “ to  give  back  to  the  bosen  man  good  conscience — 
has  this  been  my  involuntary  concern?  and  indeed  to  the  bosen  man,  so 
far  as  he  is  the  strong  man”?  This  is  perhaps  the  most  shocking 
passage  to  the  ordinary  reader,  but  hardly  to  one  acquainted  with  Nietz- 
sche’s thought  and  use  of  language.  The  bose  man  is  one  who  is  bent 
on  injury  or  destruction  and  inspires  fear;  such  men  are  necessary  to 
the  world’s  progress,  in  Nietzsche’s  estimation — both  malevolent  and 
benevolent  impulses  having  their  part  to  play.  Nietzsche  has  no  wish 
to  give  good  conscience  to  the  bad  (schlechten)  man. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

a The  problem  is,  of  course,  highly  accentuated  for  Christianity,  since 
to  it  Almighty  Power  has  made  man,  and  might  apparently  have  given 
equal  energy  to  all. 

b This  does  not  mean  that  historical  conditions  determine  them,  but 
simply  make  them  possible.  Against  the  former  view  Nietzsche  strongly 
protests — see  ante,  p.  355,  and  Nietzsche’s  Werke,  XII,  189-3,  §412; 
XIV,  215-6;  Twilight  etc.,  ix,  §44.  According  to  Wilhelm  Ostwald,  many 
more  potential  great  men  are  born  than  actually  become  so  (Grosse 
Manner,  p.  iii ) . 

c Cf . D.  G.  Mason’s  remarks  about  Beethoven : “ He  was  wilful ; but 
it  was  the  wilfulness  of  a man  who  knew  that  he  had  a great  work  to 
do  and  that  he  understood  how  to  do  it  better  than  any  one  else  ” (ABO 


NOTES 


517 


Guide  to  Music,  p.  127).  When  some  one  told  Beethoven  that  a certain 
harmony  in  one  of  his  pieces  was  “ not  allowed,”  he  answered,  “ Very 
well,  then  / allow  it”  {ibid.,  p.  127). 

dA  somewhat  similar  point  of  view  appears  to  be  taken  by  Frank 
Granger  in  his  Historical  Sociology.  Nietzsche  remarks  that  in  seeking 
to  determine  the  end  of  man  we  are  apt  to  consider  him  generically, 
leaving  individuals  and  their  peculiarities  out  of  account — but  he  asks, 
may  not  each  individual  be  regarded  as  an  attempt  to  reach  a higher 
genus  than  men,  in  virtue  of  his  most  individual  qualities  ? ( Werke,  XI, 
238,  § 194). 

eThe  prevailing  functional  view  of  man  finds  expression  in  F.  H. 
Bradley’s  Ethical  Studies,  “ We  have  found  ourselves,  when  we  have 
found  our  station  and  its  duties,  our  function  as  an  organ  in  the  social 
organism”  (p.  148).  Bradley  even  says,  “To  wish  to  be  better  than 
the  world  is  already  to  be  on  the  threshold  of  immorality”;  further, 
“ We  should  consider  whether  the  encouraging  oneself  in  having  opinions 
of  one’s  own,  in  the  sense  of  thinking  differently  from  the  world  on  moral 
subjects,  be  not,  in  any  person  other  than  a heaven-born  prophet,  sheer 
self-conceit”  (p.  180  f.).  This  is  sufficiently  strong. 

f From  this  high  point  of  view,  “ a man  as  he  ought  to  be  ” sounds 
as  absurd  to  Nietzsche  as  a “tree  as  it  ought  to  be”  (Will  to  Power, 
§ 334).  Cf.  Emerson:  “Those  who  by  eminence  of  nature  are  out  of 
reach  of  your  rewards,  let  such  be  free  of  the  city  and  above  the  law. 
We  confide  them  to  themselves;  let  them  do  with  us  as  they  will.  Let 
none  presume  to  measure  the  irregularities  of  Michael  Angelo  and 
Socrates  by  village  scales”  (“Plato,”  in  Representative  Men).  Inter- 
esting to  note  in  this  connection  is  the  peculiar  way  in  which  Nietzsche 
takes  up  the  early  Greek  philosophers — his  effort  being  to  bring  out 
what  in  each  system  is  a piece  of  personality  and  hence  belongs  to  the 
“irrefutable  and  undiscussable  ” (preface  to  “Philosophy  in  the  Tragic 
Period  of  the  Greeks,”  Werke,  IX,  5-6). 

e Cf.  the  striking  description  of  Sigismondo  Castromediano,  Duke  of 
Marciano,  in  G.  M.  Trevelyan’s  Garibaldi  and  the  Thousand,  pp.  55-6; 
and  a saying  of  Maxim  Gorky’s,  “ Nothing  is  so  deadly  to  the  soul  as 
the  desire  to  please  people.” 

tin  this  connection,  another  “hard  saying”  may  be  mentioned:  “A 
great  man:  one  who  feels  that  he  has  a right  to  sacrifice  men  as  a field- 
marshal  does — not  in  the  service  of  an  ‘ idea,’  but  because  he  will  rule  ” 
(Werke,  XIV,  65-6,  §130).  If  a feeling  of  this  kind  can  anywise  be 
justified,  it  is  only  as  we  remember  that,  to  Nietzsche,  the  great  man  is 
himself  the  highest  idea — the  supreme  values  being  not  outside  him,  but 
incorporated  in  him  (cf.  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 199).  A kindred  “hard 
saying”  is,  “Do  you  say,  it  is  the  good  cause  that  sanctifies  war?  I 
say  to  you,  it  is  good  war  that  sanctifies  every  cause  ” ( Zarathustra, 
I,  x).  The  thought  is  plainly  that  putting  forth  supreme  energy  is  itself 
the  greatest  good.  “ ‘ What  is  good  ? ’ you  ask.  To  be  brave  is  good.  Let 
little  maidens  say,  ‘Good  is  what  is  pretty  and  moving’”  (ibid.,  I,  x). 

i One  thinks  of  Marc  Antony’s  relations  with  Cleopatra,  in  contrast 
with  those  of  a really  great  man,  Caesar. 

i To  this  side  of  Nietzsche’s  view  Berthelot  hardly  does  justice  in 
his  admirable  critical  study,  Un  romantisme  utilitaire  (Vol.  1). 

k Ecce  Homo,  III,  vii,  § 2.  In  America,  “ gentleman  ” has  become 
little  more  than  a synonym  for  a certain  refinement  of  manners,  chiefly 
of  the  mild  and  altruistic  sort.  Emerson  has  the  old  strong  conception 
when  he  says,  “ God  knows  that  all  sorts  of  gentlemen  knock  at  the 
door;  but  whenever  used  in  strictness,  and  with  any  emphasis,  the  name 
will  be  found  to  point  at  original  energy.  . . . The  famous  gentlemen 
of  Asia  and  Europe  have  been  of  this  strong  type;  Saladin,  Sapor,  the 


518 


NOTES 


Cid,  Julius  Caesar,  Scipio,  Alexander,  Pericles,  and  the  lordliest  per- 
sonages  ” (Essay  on  “Manners”). 

1 It  is  a curious  reflection  on  the  state  of  culture  in  America  that 
scholars  as  well  as  others  sometimes  take  these  magnates  as  exemplifica- 
tions of  Nietzsche’s  “superman”  (cf.  Wilbur  M.  Urban,  Atlantic  Monthly, 
December,  1912,  p.  789). 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

a Meyer  (op.  cit.,  p.  451  ff.)  raises  the  question  whether  by  superman 
Nietzsche  had  in  mind  individuals  or  a collectivity.  In  a sense  one  might 
answer,  both:  his  primary  thought  was  of  a certain  type  of  man,  irre- 
spective of  whether  there  were  one  or  many  of  them.  Yet  however  many, 
they  would  be  more  or  less  independent  of  one  another:  a compact  society 
(Heerde)  of  supermen  is  inconceivable  (self-contradictory). 

b Theobald  Ziegler,  of  Strasburg,  remarks  with  a certain  complacency 
that  he  was  the  first  professor  of  philosophy  to  take  up  Nietzsche  in  a 
Seminar,  and  that  his  students,  all  Nietzsche-worshipers  at  the  beginning, 
were  at  the  end  Nietzschean  no  more  (Der  Turnhahn,  June,  1914,  p.  643). 
But  it  may  be  questioned  whether  average  university  students  are  capable 
of  really  grasping  Nietzsche,  so  that  accepting  or  rejecting  him  means 
little  in  their  case.  He  is  for  those  who  have  philosophical  training  and 
ripe  powers  of  reflection  to  start  with — for  7>ien  (in  every  sense  of  the 
word ) . 

c Werke,  XIII,  347,  § 859.  Luther,  Niebuhr,  Bismarck  are  given  as 
instances.  Cf.,  on  a healthy  peasant,  rude,  shrewd,  stubborn,  enduring, 
as  the  superior  type,  Zarathustra,  IV,  iii;  also,  on  the  possibility  that 
there  is  today  among  the  people,  and  particularly  among  peasants,  more 
relative  superiority  of  taste  and  tact  for  reverence  than  among  the 
newspaper-reading  half -world  of  intellect,  the  educated  {Beyond  Good  and 
Evil,  § 263). 

<J  Cf.  Werke,  XII,  410;  368,  §718;  XIV,  263,  §10.  In  speaking  of 
aristocracy,  Nietzsche  says  that  he  has  not  in  mind  the  prefix  “ von  ” 
and  the  Gotha  Calendar — an  intercalation  for  the  benefit  of  “ Esel  ” ( Will 
to  Power,  § 942).  None  the  less,  he  holds  that  aristocracies  in  general 
are  a fruit  of  time  and  training  {Joyful  Science,  §40;  Beyond  Good  and 
Evil,  §213);  and  Ziegler  thinks  that  in  admitting  this,  he  becomes 
reactionary  and  plays  into  the  hands  of  the  Junker  {Friedrich  Nietzsche, 
p.  144) — but  surely  one  may  admit  the  potency  of  descent  and  yet  allow 
that  the  family-process  may  have  a beginning  and  alas!  a degenerate 
ending. 

eAs  to  the  carelessness  of  men  of  genius  in  marrying,  see  what 
immediately  follows  the  passage  from  Zarathustra  quoted  in  the  text; 
also  Werke,  XI,  131,  § 418;  Dawn  of  Day,  §§  150-1.  The  plaint  is  as  old 
as  Theognis  that  while  with  horses  and  asses  and  goats  the  attempt  is 
made  to  perfect  the  breed,  in  the  case  of  man  marriage  for  money  spoils 
the  race. 

f There  is  even  a late  utterance  of  Nietzsche  apologizing  for  national- 
ism, so  far  as  it  is  a means  of  preserving  the  fighting  spirit  and  con- 
tinuing the  strong  type  of  man  {Will  to  Power,  § 729;  cf.  Werke,  XIII, 
358,  § 882). 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

a One  of  the  first  American  publicists  to  see  the  natural  connection 
of  democracy  with  an  advanced  labor-program  (if  not  socialism)  was 
Wayne  MacVeagh  (see  his  article  “Democracy  and  Law,”  New  Eng- 


NOTES 


519 


lander,  January,  1887).  I may  add  that  the  democracy  that  marks  itself 
off  from  socialism  is  apt  to  be  the  theory  of  strong,  self-sufficient  indi- 
viduals, as  against  the  natural  tendency  of  the  mass,  who  only  become 
strong  by  combination  and  organization. 

Nietzsche  admits  that  socialists  may  deceive  themselves  about  this, 
and  may  even,  to  put  through  their  ideas,  deceive  others — the  preaching 
of  altruism  in  the  ultimate  interest  of  individual  egoism  being  one  of 
the  commonest  falsifications  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Cf.  the  searching 
essay  of  Bernard  Bosanquet,  “ The  Antithesis  between  Individualism  and 
Socialism,  philosophically  considered,”  in  The  Civilization  of  Christendom. 
In  another  passage  {Will  to  Power,  § 757),  Nietzsche  says  that  modern 
socialism  will  in  the  end  produce  a secular  counterpart  of  Jesuitism — 
every  man  becoming  a tool  and  nothing  else,  and  he  adds,  “ for  what  purpose 
is  not  yet  discovered  ” [he  means,  of  course,  “ for  what  rational  purpose,” 
since  making  oneself  a tool  for  an  organization  that  simply  protects  the 
tools  hardly  rises  to  that  dignity] ; cf.,  on  this  point,  the  close  of 
Chapter  XI  of  this  book. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

a In  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 219,  an  order  of  rank  is  spoken  of  even 
among  things,  and  not  merely  among  men,  and  there  is  a Rangordnung 
of  spiritual  states  {Hid.,  257;  cf.,  however,  the  reservation  in  Will  to 
Power,  §931),  of  problems  (Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §213),  of  values 
{Will  to  Power,  § 1006),  of  moralities  {Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 228)  — 
not  to  speak  of  the  fact  that  a morality  of  any  kind  involves  a Rang- 
ordnung, something  commanding  on  one  side  and  something  obeying  on 
the  other  {Werke,  XIII,  105,  § 246). 

b The  “ Law  of  Manu  ” contemplated  four  classes,  the  priestly,  mili- 
tary and  political,  commercial  and  agricultural,  and  a serving-class 
(Sudras) — see  Twilight  etc.,  vii,  § 3,  and  the  extended  notes  on  the  “Law 
of  Manu,”  Werke,  XIV,  117-30  (cf.  246-7).  In  one  of  his  classifications 
{Werke,  XII,  411),  Nietzsche  himself  distinguishes  a special  slave-class, 
though  according  to  his  prevailing  view  the  third  class  themselves  have 
the  general  slave-characteristics.  It  should  be  added  that  the  Hindu 
priestly  class  corresponds  in  a general  way  to  Nietzsche’s  first  class;  he 
particularly  notes  that  the  Brahmans  named  kings,  though  standing  apart 
from  political  life  themselves  {Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §61). 

c The  upper  caste  in  India  was  priestly,  as  noted  above,  and  we  under- 
stand how  Nietzsche  could  refer  to  “ the  ruling  class  of  priests,  nobles, 
thinkers  [indifferently]  in  earlier  times”  {Werke,  XI,  374).  Zarathustra, 
after  berating  priests  and  calling  them  enemies,  says,  “ but  my  blood  is 
related  to  theirs,  and  I wish  withal  to  have  it  honored  in  theirs”  {Zara- 
thustra, II,  iv ) . 

d Cf.  the  general  saying,  “ To  execute  what  is  great  is  difficult,  but 
more  difficult  still  is  to  command  what  is  great”  {Zarathustra,  II,  xxii). 
I recall  an  inscription  on  the  gravestone  of  Schnorr  von  Carolsfeld  in 
Mariathal,  near  Brixlegg,  in  Austria:  quo  altior  gradus  eo  difficilius 
officium. 

e Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 29.  I give  the  whole  passage : “ It  is 
something  for  the  fewest  to  be  independent — it  is  a privilege  for  the 
strong.  And  he  who  attempts  it  even  with  the  best  right,  but  without 
being  compelled,  proves  that  he  is  probably  not  only  strong,  but  audacious 
to  the  point  of  wantonness.  He  ventures  into  a labyrinth,  he  multiplies 
a thousandfold  the  dangers  that  life  of  itself  brings  in  its  train;  of 
these  not  the  least  is  that  no  one  sees  how  and  where  he  loses  his  way, 
becomes  isolated  and  torn  to  pieces  by  some  cave-Minotaur  of  conscience. 
Supposing  that  he  goes  to  ruin,  it  happens  so  far  from  the  understanding 


520 


NOTES 


of  men  that  they  have  no  feeling  or  sympathy  for  him — and  he  cannot 
go  back  any  more,  he  cannot  even  go  back  to  men’s  sympathy  any  more  ” ! 
Cf.  a passage  quoted  by  Meyer  (op.  cit.,  p.  587),  which  I cannot  locate: 
“ How  much  of  truth  one  can  bear  without  degenerating,  is  his  [the 
philosopher’s]  measure.  Just  so,  how  much  happiness — just  so,  how  much 
freedom  and  power ! ” 

i Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  §41.  I quote  practically  the  whole  of  this 
passage:  “We  must  give  proofs  to  ourselves  that  we  are  fitted  for  inde- 
pendence and  command;  and  this  in  season.  We  must  not  avoid  our 
tests,  though  they  are  perhaps  the  most  dangerous  game  we  can  play, 
and  in  the  last  instance  are  only  tests  that  have  ourselves  for  witness 
and  no  other  judge.  For  example:  Not  to  hang  on  a person,  even  one 
most  loved — every  person  is  a prison,  also  a corner.  Not  to  hang  on  a 
fatherland,  even  if  it  be  one  most  suffering  and  necessitous — it  is  already 
less  difficult  to  loosen  one’s  heart  from  a victorious  fatherland.  Not  to 
hang  on  a compassion,  even  if  it  be  one  for  higher  men  into  whose  extraor- 
dinary suffering  and  helplessness  chance  has  allowed  us  to  glance.  Not  to 
hang  on  a science,  even  if  it  entices  us  with  most  precious  discoveries 
apparently  reserved  for  just  us.  Not  to  hang  on  one’s  own  emancipation, 
on  that  blissful  sense  of  the  far  and  unfamiliar  which  the  bird  has  that 
flies  ever  higher,  in  order  to  see  ever  more  beneath  it — the  danger  of  one 
with  wings.  Not  to  hang  on  our  own  virtues  and  become  as  a whole 
a sacrifice  to  some  part  of  us,  e.g.,  to  ‘ our  hospitality  ’ — the  danger  of 
dangers  for  high-natured  and  opulent  souls,  who  are  prodigal  with  them- 
selves almost  to  the  point  of  unconcern  and  carry  the  virtue  of  liberality 
so  far  that  it  becomes  a vice.  We  must  know  how  to  preserve  ourselves: 
strongest  test  of  independence.”  Cf.  as  to  the  preliminary  self-training 
of  the  ruler,  WerJce  (pocket  ed.),  VII,  484,  §§  23-4,  27-8. 

eWill  to  Power,  §713.  It  is  curious  to  find  a counterpart  of  this 
conception  in  the  older,  shall  I say?  profounder,  theological  view  of  the 
world  as  a scene  of  trial,  in  which,  while  many  are  called,  few  are 
chosen.  The  “ chosen,”  however,  as  viewed  by  Christianity,  are  perfect 
members  of  the  flock,  supreme  exemplars  of  the  social  virtues,  while 
Nietzsche’s  “ chosen  ” are  those  who  stand  more  or  less  aloof  from  the 
flock,  acting  according  to  their  own,  not  soeial  law,  as  autonomous  as 
God,  indeed  the  human  counterpart  of  God. 

1'  Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 287.  Cf . Will  to  Power,  § 940 : “ Higher 
than  ‘thou  oughtst  ’ stands  ‘I  will’  (heroes);  higher  than  ‘I  will’ 
stands  ‘I  am’  (the  Greek  Gods).”  Also  Human,  etc.,  §210:  “Born 
aristocrats  of  the  mind  are  not  too  eager;  their  creations  appear  and  fall 
from  the  tree  on  a quiet  autumn  night  without  being  hastily  craved, 
pushed,  or  crowded  by  new  growths.  The  unceasing  wish  to  create  is 
common  and  shows  jealousy,  envy,  ambition.  If  one  is  something,  one 
really  needs  to  produce  nothing — and  all  the  same  does  very  much. 
Beyond  the  ‘ productive  ’ man  there  is  a still  higher  species.”  Nietzsche 
cites  the  remark  of  Plutarch  that  no  noble-born  youth,  in  seeing  the 
Zeus  in  Pisa,  would  wish  to  become  even  a Phidias,  or,  if  he  saw  the 
Hera  in  Argos,  would  wish  to  become  even  a Polyelet;  and  that  quite  as 
little  would  he  desire  to  be  Anacreon,  Philetas,  or  Archilochus,  whatever 
delight  he  took  in  their  poems  [Werke,  IX,  150).  Great  men  protect 
artists,  poets,  and  those  who  are  masters  in  any  direction,  but  do  not 
confuse  themselves  with  them  ( Will  to  Power,  § 943 ) . Perhaps  it  is  in 
this  exaltation  of  being  above  action  that  the  secret  (or  a part  of  it) 
lies  of  Nietzsche’s  relatively  low  estimate  of  Carlyle  and  his  hero- 
worship.  On  the  other  hand,  Emerson  (Essay  on  “Character”)  uses  a 
legend  which  perfectly  illustrates  Nietzsche’s  thought:  “O  lole!  how  did 
you  know  that  Hercules  was  a god?”  “Because,”  answered  lole,  “I 
was  content  the  moment  my  eyes  fell  on  him.  When  I beheld  Theseus,  I 


NOTES 


521 


desired  that  I might  see  him  offer  battle,  or  at  least  guide  his  horses 
in  the  chariot-race;  but  Hercules  did  not  wait  for  a contest;  he  con- 
quered whether  he  stood  or  walked  or  sat,  or  whatever  he  did.” 

^Beyond  Good  and  Evil,  § 258.  Cf.  Will  to  Power,  § 898,  where  after 
speaking  of  the  equalizing  process  (Ausgleichung)  going  on  in  modern 
democratic  society,  he  says,  “ This  equalized  species  needs,  as  soon  as  it 
is  attained,  a justification:  it  is  for  the  service  of  a higher  sovereign 
type  which  stands  upon  it  and  only  so  can  lift  itself  to  its  own  task. 
Not  merely  a master-race  whose  function  is  exhausted  in  ruling;  but 
a race  with  its  own  sphere  of  life,  with  a surplus  of  energy  enabling  it 
to  carry  beauty,  bravery,  culture,  manners  into  their  most  spiritual  ex- 
pressions; an  affirmative  race  which  can  allow  itself  every  great  luxury — 
strong  enough  not  to  need  a tyrannical  imperative  to  virtue,  rich  enough 
not  to  need  petty  economy  and  pedantry,  beyond  good  and  evil ; a hot- 
house for  strange  and  choice  plants.”  In  ibid.,  937,  he  quotes  a French 
emigre,  M.  de  Montlosier,  who  in  his  De  la  monarchic  frangaise  had  ex- 
pressed the  ancient  sentiment  of  his  class  in  an  astonishingly  frank 
manner : “ Race  d’affranchis,  race  d’esclaves  arrach^s  de  nos  mains,  peuple 
tributaire,  peuple  nouveau,  license  vous  fut  octroyde  d’etre  libres,  et  non 
pas  a nous  d’etre  nobles;  pour  nous  tout  est  de  droit,  pour  vous  tout  est 
de  grace,  nous  ne  somme  point  de  votre  communautfi;  nous  sommes  un 
tout  par  nous-memes.”  Nietzsche  remarks  that  Augustin  Thierry  read 
this  in  1814,  and  with  a cry  of  anger  proceeded  to  write  his  own  book 
on  the  Revolution. 

iHe  said  in  one  of  his  earliest  essays  (“On  the  Use  and  Harm  of 
History  for  Life,”  sect.  9 ) : “ The  masses  appear  to  me  to  deserve  a 
glance  only  in  three  ways:  first,  as  fading  copies  of  great  men,  made  on 
bad  paper  and  with  wornout  plates,  then  as  a force  of  opposition  to  the 
great,  and  finally  as  instruments  for  the  great;  aside  from  this,  the  devil 
and  statistics  take  them  ” ! This  is  disparagement,  but  not  altogether  so. 

k Henri  Lichtenberger,  in  one  of  the  most  illuminating  expositions  of 
Nietzsche’s  social  conceptions  yet  made,  remarks  that  this  is  a part  of 
his  ethics  which  Nietzsche  has  left  in  the  shade  (“  L’Individualisme  de 
Nietzsche,”  Entre  Camerades,  Paris,  1901,  pp.  341-57).  See  also  his  La 
Philosophie  de  Nietzsche,  p.  151. 

1 All  this  is  left  out  of  account  by  writers,  like  a critic  in  the  London 
Academy  (June  28,  1913),  who  speaks  of  the  “overman”  as  crushing  out 
the  weaker  masses,  and  even  by  Brandes  in  his  first  article  on  Nietzsche 
(Deutsche  Rundschau,  April,  1890),  who  represents  him  as  having  only 
hatred  and  contempt  for  the  undermost  strata  of  the  social  pyramid. 

“ This  is  a subtlety  that  appears  to  escape  the  subtle  Mr.  Balfour 
himself  and  all  who  argue  for  the  necessity  of  an  other  than  naturalistic 
ethics,  if  the  weak  are  to  be  respected;  it  was  perhaps  first  strikingly 
set  forth  by  C.  C.  Everett,  in  an  article,  “ The  New  Ethics,”  Unitarian 
Review,  Vol.  X,  p.  408  ff.  (reprinted  in  Poetry,  Comedy,  and  Duty,  see 
pp.  287-8). 

n Meyer  (op.  cit.,  p.  310)  thinks  that  Nietzsche  started  with  the  ordi- 
nary economic  or  political  meaning  of  “ slave,”  and  then  generalized, 
beginning  to  do  so  in  Human,  All-too-Human. 

o When  we  in  America  speak  of  slavery,  we  are  apt  to  think  of  what 
existed  in  our  country,  before  the  Civil  War,  when  a black  man  had  “ no 
rights  which  a white  man  was  bound  to  respect  ” — but  this  laisser  faire  or 
anarchy  is  not  a necessary  accompaniment  of  slavery. 

PCf.  Richter  (op.  cit.,  pp.  244-5),  “Why  recommend  measures  to  the 
weak,  by  which  they  preserve  themselves?  Should  not  all  the  weak 
disappear?  This  Nietzsche  believes  that  he  must  positively  deny.  The 
mass  . . . will  always  be  necessary  in  the  interest  of  the  strong;  . . . 
only  those  who  are  altogether  sickly  and  crippled  in  mind  and  body. 


522 


NOTES 


who  corrupt  and  disintegrate  the  species  and  consequently  do  not  facili- 
tate, but  rather  render  more  difficult  the  producing  of  the  superman, 
should  pass  away — for  them  there  is  only  one  virtue:  to  disappear.” 

a Cf.  William  James’s  references  to  the  world  of  concrete  personal 
experience  as  “ tangled,  muddy,  painful,  and  perplexed,”  to  the  “ vast 
driftings  of  the  cosmic  weather”  {Pragmatism,  pp.  21,  105) — apparently 
James  could  only  find  relief  in  experiences  of  a more  or  less  mystical 
character  {ibid.,  p.  109,  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  pp.  380,  388, 
422,  but  see  p.  425 ) . 

rCf.  Richter’s  statement  of  the  “moral  task”  of  the  weaker;  “dis- 
regarding their  own  development  {Ausbildung) , to  make  possible  the 
production,  preservation,  furtherance  of  strong  personalities”  {op.  cit., 
p.  245). 

s That  business  men,  when  they  go  out  of  business,  are  often  at  a 
loss  how  to  occupy  themselves  and  are  most  unhappy,  is  well  known. 

t A consideration  of  this  sort  may  explain  the  extremely  contrasted 
points  of  view  of  Genealogy  etc.,  II,  § 17,  and  Werke,  XIII,  195,  § 430,  in 
commenting  on  the  origin  of  the  state  (in  the  one  case  force,  in  the 
other,  reverence  being  emphasized ) . 

a The  passage  which  Hdffding  {op.  cit.,  p.  174)  quotes  as  evidence 
that  Nietzsche  changed  his  mind — it  is  to  the  effect  that  the  rulers  are 
to  win  the  deep  unconditional  confidence  of  the  ruled  {Werke,  pocket  ed., 
VII,  486,  § 36 ) — is  not  inconsistent  with  “ Herrenmoral,”  and  there  are 
as  many  strong  expressions  of  the  latter  doctrine  in  his  later  writings 
as  earlier. 

V A “ Kampf  der  Kasten,”  at  least  at  the  beginning  and  latent  always, 
is  not,  as  Hoffding  thinks  {op.  cit.,  p.  175),  inconsistent  with  a 
“ gemeinschaftliches  Ziel  ” — this  has  been  explained  in  the  text.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  the  “ hostility  ” to  which  Dorner  refers.  As  for 
the  “abyss”  or  “ditch,”  of  which  Faguet  speaks,  Nietzsche  would  have 
it,  but  at  the  same  time  “ no  antitheses  ” ( see  Will  to  Power,  § 891 ) . He 
expressly  mentions  as  one  of  his  problems,  “ How  is  the  new  nobility  to 
organize  itself  as  the  power-possessing  class?  how  is  it  to  mark  itself 
off  from  others  without  making  them  enemies  and  opponents”?  {Werke, 
XII,  122,  § 240 — the  italics  here  are  mine). 

w Faguet  regards  what  he  conceives  to  be  Nietzsche’s  idea,  that  the 
higher  class  has  held  the  mass  down  by  force,  as  historically  false,  urging 
that  the  mass  have  wished  to  be  governed  aristocratically,  being  essen- 
tially aristocratic  in  their  sentiments  and  in  a sense  more  aristocratic 
than  the  higher  class  itself — since  among  the  latter  self-interest  may 
work,  while  among  the  mass  the  feeling  is  a passion  against  interest 
{op.  cit.,  p.  344  f. ).  Faguet  does  not  do  justice  to  the  complexities  of 
Nietzsche’s  meaning,  but  he  perhaps  states  an  essential  truth. 

X Cf.  the  description  of  the  highest  man  as  determining  the  values 
and  guiding  the  will  of  millenniums,  rulers  being  his  instruments  {Will 
to  Power,  §§  998-9)  ; also  the  picture  of  the  wise  man, 

“ Strange  to  the  people  and  yet  useful  to  the  people,” 

{Werke,  pocket  ed.,  VI,  52). 

y We  have  already  found  Nietzsche  warning  against  confusing  the 
higher  egoism  with  impulses  which,  apparently  egoistic,  have  really  for 
their  aim  a social  result  (for  example,  the  impulse  for  the  accumulation 
of  property,  or  the  sexual  impulse,  or  that  of  the  conqueror  or  statesman — 
see  Werke,  XII,  117,  § 230). 

z It  must  be  admitted  that  there  is  still  another  difficulty,  which 
is  hinted  at  by  Holson,  op.  cit.,  p.  80.  The  higher  individuals,  loosed  from 
social  bands,  may  be  hostile  to  one  another  (cf.  Werke,  XI,  240,  § 198; 
XIV,  76-7 — the  mutual  hostilities  of  strong  races,  as  described  in  Will  to 
Power,  § 864,  are,  I take  it,  another  matter).  For  if  it  comes  to  physical 


NOTES 


523 


conflicts,  other  parts  of  the  society  may  take  sides,  and  the  life  of  the 
whole  be  endangered — one  thinks  of  the  Wars  of  the  Roses,  and  of  feuds 
such  as  have  often  existed  between  noble  families.  But  though  such 
possibilities  cannot  be  denied,  Nietzsche’s  ordinary  thought  of  an  aris- 
tocracy is  of  something  cohering — indeed,  something  which  makes  a prin- 
ciple of  coherence  and  organization  for  the  society  to  which  it  belongs: 
the  same  men,  who,  in  one  aspect  of  their  being,  are  individuals  proper, 
are,  in  another,  functionaries  of  (if  only  to  the  extent  of  giving  legis- 
lative thought  to)  the  society.  If  then  they  push  their  individualistic 
instincts  so  far,  that  they  go  to  fighting  one  another  and  jeopardizing 
the  life  of  the  society,  they  must  be  restrained.  As  if  envisaging  a 
situation  of  this  general  character,  Nietzsche  once  defined  it  as  the 
problem  of  the  legislator  to  join  together  forces  out  of  order,  so  that 
they  shall  not  destroy  themselves  in  conflict  with  one  another,  and  so 
secure  a real  increase  of  force  (I  follow  here  Hal6vy’s  Vie,  p.  341,  not 
being  able  to  locate  the  passage  he  cites).  He  calls  it  the  task  of  culture 
to  take  into  service  all  that  is  fearful,  singly,  experimentally,  step  by 
step,  adding,  however,  that  till  it  is  strong  enough  to  do  this,  it  must 
fight,  moderate,  or  even  curse  what  is  fearful  (Will  to  Power,  § 1025; 
cf.  Werke,  XII,  92,  §182).  For,  as  already  explained,  temporary  hos- 
tility to  great  men  may  be  justified  on  grounds  of  economy — they  may 
use  up  force  too  quickly,  which,  if  stored,  would  grow  to  greater  (Will 
to  Poioer,  § 896). 

aa  In  one  passage  (Werke,  XII,  119,  § 233)  Nietzsche  even  questions 
whether  the  ends  of  the  individual  are  necessarily  those  of  the  species, 
but  here  I think  he  means  of  a given  species.  The  variant  individual 
may  be  the  principle  of  the  possibility  of  a higher  species,  or  he  may  be 
a species  ( so  to  speak ) all  by  himself : humanity  may  present  a suc- 
cession of  species,  one  rising  above  another. 

bb  Morality  (in  the  usual  sense)  regards  man  as  function  purely,  i.e., 
so  far  degrades  him — this  being  said,  of  course,  only  from  the  highest 
point  of  view.  Cf.  Joyful  Science,  § 116. 

“The  question  is  sometimes  raised  (e.g.,  by  Hoffding,  op.  cit.,  pp, 
68-9)  whether  Nietzsche  was  an  Utilitarian.  It  is  a question  which  has,, 
to  one  who  has  felt  the  new  issues  which  Nietzsche  raises,  a somewhat 
antiquated  air;  all  the  same  we  may  say  that  if  Utilitarianism  is  the 
doctrine  of  the  greatest  good  of  the  greatest  number  (or  of  all— each 
counting  for  one  and  no  more  than  one)  as  the  standard,  Nietzsche  was 
not  an  Utilitarian,  since  he  held  that  there  may  be  individuals  who  are 
more  important  than  others,  even  than  all  the  rest  combined.  Quite- 
as  little  was  he  an  Utilitarian  so  far  as  this  is  an  eudsemonistic  doctrine, 
for  questions  of  pleasure  and  pain  (no  matter  how  universalistically 
conceived)  have  a secondary  place  with  him.  But  so  far  as  Utilitarianism 
means  that  actions  are  good  and  bad  not  in  themselves,  but  with  reference 
to  ends  beyond  them,  the  highest  end  being  the  highest  possible  develop- 
ment of  humanity,  Nietzsche  was  an  Utilitarian,  for  he  broke  entirely 
with  Intuitionalism  (which  is  little  more  than  uncritical  common  sense 
turned  into  a formal  doctrine)  : nothing  to  him  is  good  or  bad,  right  or 
wrong,  of  itself,  or  as  a divine  command,  or  as  an  unanalysable  dictate 
of  conscience.  At  the  same  time  the  highest  development  of  humanity  is 
not  conceived  in  social  but  rather  in  personal  terms — hence  the  happy 
characterization  of  his  doctrine  by  Simmel  as  Personalism.  The  actions 
of  the  mass,  indeed,  the  mass  themselves  and  all  who  stop  short  of  being 
persons,  are  viewed  in  an  utilitarian  light — he  speaks  of  himself  in  this 
way  ( “ fearful,”  yet  “ beneficent,”  Ecce  Homo,  IV,  § 2 ) ; but  the  supreme 
individuals  are  not  utilities,  being  rather  the  standard  by  which  utility 
in  all  else  is  measured. 

Nietzsche’s  view  that  the  flock-feeling  (social  sentiment)  should 


524 


NOTES 


rule  in  the  flock  (society),  needs  to  be  emphasized,  in  view  of  the  common 
misapprehension  of  his  meaning.  I have  already  noted  his  strong  state- 
ment that  flock-morality  is  to  be  held  “unconditionally  sacred”  [in  the 
flock].  Will  to  Power,  § 132.  He  protests  that  higher  natures  are  not  to 
treat  their  valuations  as  universally  valid  (Joyful  Science,  §3).  The 
question  may,  of  course,  be  raised  whether  contrasted  valuations  are  con- 
sistent with  a common  goal,  and  we  may  say  in  reply,  (1)  that  it  is  not 
impossible  that  different  classes  should  move  toward  the  same  goal,  even 
if  they  are  not  aware  of  doing  so,  and  (2)  that  as  matter  of  fact 
Nietzsche  seems  to  conceive  that  the  mass  may  have  some  idea  of  the 
final  goal  and  willingly  lend  themselves  to  movement  in  that  direction. 

ee  See  Will  to  Power,  § 898,  where  it  is  accordingly  said  that  the 
leveling  is  not  to  be  hindered,  but  rather  hastened.  For  a long  time  the 
mechanizing  process  must  seem  the  only  aim  (Werke,  1st  ed.,  XV,  415 — I 
cannot  locate  this  passage  in  the  2d  ed.,  from  which  I quote  in  general). 
This,  I need  not  say,  is  very  different  from  making  the  process  a final 
aim,  as  Walter  Rathenau  seems  to  do  (Zur  Kritik  der  Zeit) . There  is 
another  version  of  Nietzsche’s  general  view  in  Will  to  Power,  § 866,  which 
may  be  summarized  as  follows:  The  outcome  of  modern  tendencies  will 
be  a whole  of  enormous  power,  the  single  factors  of  which,  however, 
represent  minimum  forces,  minimum  values;  in  opposition  to  this  dwarf- 
ing and  specializing  of  men,  there  is  needed  a reverse  movement — a 
producing  of  a synthetic,  justifying  type  of  man,  for  whom  the  general 
mechanization  is  a condition  of  existence,  as  a sort  of  ground  framework 
(Untergestell)  on  which  he  can  devise  a higher  form  of  being  for  himself. 
He  needs  the  antagonism  of  the  mass,  the  feeling  of  distance  from  them — 
he  stands  on  them,  lives  off  them.  Morally  speaking,  the  mechanization 
represents  a maximum  of  human  exploitation;  but  it  presupposes  those 
on  whose  account  the  exploitation  has  meaning.  Otherwise  the  mechaniza- 
tion would  be  actually  a collective  lowering  of  the  human  type — a retro- 
gressive phenomenon  in  grand  style.  All  this  in  opposition  to  the 
economic  optimism  which  would  find  the  sacrifices  of  all  compensated  by 
the  good  (Nutzen)  of  all;  instead,  these  sacrifices  would  add  themselves 
up  into  a collective  loss,  and  we  could  no  longer  see  for  what  the  immense 
process  had  served.  Cf.  Faguet’s  enlargement  on  the  possibilities  of 
the  actual  coming  of  a superior  race  (op.  cit.,  p.  275). 

f£  An  organic  connection  might  even  be  said  to  exist  between  the 
higher  and  lower,  considered  as  exceptions  and  the  rule.  “ What  I contend 
against:  that  an  exceptional  type  should  make  war  on  the  rule,  instead 
of  realizing  that  the  continuance  of  the  rule  is  the  presupposition  for 
the  value  of  the  exception”  (Will  to  Power,  § 894)  ; he  gives  as  illustra- 
tion women  with  extraordinary  desire  for  knowledge,  who,  instead  of 
feeling  the  distinction  that  this  brings,  wish  to  change  the  position  of 
women  in  general. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

a Nietzsche  is  similarly  classed  with  “anarchists,  ego-worshipers, 
rebels  to  law  and  order”  in  the  Quarterly  Review  (October,  1896,  p.  318). 
Also  Ludwig  Stein  speaks  of  his  “ anarchistic-aristocratic  theory  ” 
(Friedrich  Nietzsche’s  Weltschauung  und  ihre  Oefahren,  p.  167) — cf.  Kurt 
Breysig’s  view,  Jalirhuch  fiir  Oesetzgebung,  XX  (1896),  pp.  4-14,  but  also 
the  admissions  on  p.  16. 

b Griechische  Kulturgeschichte,  III,  378-9,  “ The  decisive  and  notable 
thing  in  it  [philosophy  among  the  Greeks]  is  the  rise  of  a class  of  free, 
independent  men  in  the  despotic  polis.  The  philosophers  do  not  become 
employees  and  officials  of  the  polis;  they  willingly  withdraw  from  it  . . . 


NOTES 


525 


and  over  against  it  and  public  business  and  talk,  the  free  personality  wins 
force  and  opportunity  for  contemplation.” 

c Cf . Mazzini’s  description  of  Austria  as  “ not  a nation,  but  a system 
of  government,”  and  a casual  remark  of  Nietzsche  to  his  sister  after 
hearing  some  patriotic  songs,  “ Fatherland  is  to  be  sure  something  other 
than  state”  {Hamburgischer  Correspondent,  September  15,  1914,  p.  2). 
Similarly  R.  M.  Maclver  speaks  of  the  Roman  Empire  as  “ not  a society, 
not  a living  thing,  but  an  imposed  system,  an  institution  ” ( International 
Journal  of  Ethics,  January,  1913,  p.  134).  Meyer  explains  Nietzsche’s 
antagonism  to  the  state,  to  the  extent  it  existed,  as  due  partly  to  the 
circumstances  and  tendencies  of  the  time,  and  maintains  that  he  always 
thought  of  the  organization  of  society  as  realizing  itself  through  essen- 
tially political  forms  (op.  cit.,  pp.  24-6,  and  441). 

<3  Only  from  a similar  point  of  view,  i.e.,  because  he  placed  the  Poles 
high  in  the  scale  of  rank,  can  I account  for  the  opinion  once  expressed 
that  their  political  unruliness  and  weakness,  even  their  extravagances, 
indicate  their  superiority  rather  than  anything  else  (Werke,  XII,  198, 
§421). 

e I may  refer  in  this  connection  to  my  little  book.  Anarchy  or  Gov- 
ernment? An  Inquiry  in  Fundamental  Politics  (1895). 

f As  bearing  on  the  future  of  marriage  he  proposes  in  one  place 
heavier  inheritance  taxes,  also  a longer  period  of  military  duty,  on 
bachelors;  special  privileges  for  fathers  who  bring  a goodly  number  of 
boys  into  the  world,  in  certain  circumstances  the  right  to  cast  several 
votes;  a medical  record  to  precede  every  marriage  and  be  signed  by  the 
communal  authorities  (in  which  a variety  of  questions  by  the  parties  and 
the  physicians  are  to  be  answered,  “family  history”)  ; as  an  antidote  to- 
prostitution  (or  an  ennobling  transformation  of  it)  the  legalizing  of 
marriages  for  given  terms  (a  year,  a month),  with  guarantees  for  the' 
children;  every  marriage  answered  for  and  recommended  by  a certain 
number  of  trustworthy  men  in  the  community,  as  a community  affair 
{Will  to  Power,  § 733). 

e Nietzsche  found  the  literary  class  as  well  as  the  political  parties 
and  the  socialists  repulsive  {Werke,  XIV,  358,  § 223;  cf.  the  reference  to 
the  literary  class  who  “live”  off  their  opinions,  ibid.,  357,  §222;  also 
Joyful  Science,  § 366)  ; and  Berthelot  comments  on  his  opposition  to  the 
conservatives  and  reactionaries  who  were  only  bent  on  retaining  their 
material  goods  and  maintaining  Christian  morality  {Grande  Eycyclo- 
pidie,  art.  “Nietzsche”).  Ironically  enough,  in  Germany  the  literary 
class  and  artists  seem  to  have  been  most  affected  by  Nietzsche — probably 
through  admiration  for  his  qualities  of  style  rather  than  from  any  con- 
siderable understanding  of  his  thought. 

h It  may  be  said,  however,  that  a united  Europe  was  once  a possibility 
at  the  hands  of  another  Frenchman,  earlier  than  Napoleon — Henry  IV, 
who  had  an  end  put  to  his  career  by  the  dagger  of  Ravaillac. 


INDEX 


Abelard,  230. 

Adams,  Charles  Francis,  491. 

Addams,  Jane,  20. 

Aerial  Navigation,  146,  473. 

^sehylus,  82,  292,  398,  480,  481. 
Alcibiades,  400. 

Alcohol,  7,  109,  149,  376,  423,  464, 
491. 

Alenin,  372. 

Alexander,  369,  518. 

Allen,  Grant,  355. 

America  (or  Americans),  2,  131, 
369,  463. 

Amor  fati,  17,  161,  170,  437,  446. 
Anacreon,  520. 

Anarchy  (or  anarchists),  76,  138, 
349,  379,  383,  410,  417,  421,  423, 
424,  433,  457-9,  523. 

Anaxagoras,  481. 

Angelo,  Michael,  105,  481,  487,  517. 
Anti-Semitism,  85-6,  467,  471. 
Antitheses,  absolute,  questioned, 

242- 3;  particularly  moral  ones, 

243- 5. 

Antony,  Marc,  517. 

Apocalypse,  the,  236,  506. 

Apollinic  and  Dionysiac  forms  of 
art,  40-44,  82. 

“Aristocratic  radicalism,”  32,  402. 
Aristotle,  14,  22,  104,  292,  305,  393, 
486,  602. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  203,  285,  355, 
361,  504,  507. 

Art,  fundamental  nature  and  use  of, 

39;  two  forms  of  Greek  art,  40- 
2;  the  tragic  drama  as  a fusion 
of  the  two,  43-4;  the  World-Will 
as  artist,  47-8,  482;  modern  mis- 
conception and  misuse  of  art,  75, 
480;  possibility  of  a new  art  of 

527 


the  Dionysiac  type,  78  ff.;  Wag- 
ner as  the  ideal  artist,  81;  later 
questionings  about  Wagner’s  art, 
87-91;  art  under  a shadow  in  sec- 
ond period,  101,  129-130;  criticism 
of  poetry  and  music,  102;  fresh 
appreciation  of  poetry  in  conclud- 
ing period,  155;  connection  of 
morality  with,  339;  an  element  of 
danger  in  (for  the  thinker),  487. 

Artisten-Metaphysik,  47,  49,  194. 

Asceticism,  8,  37,  282,  317,  375,  413, 
432,  500. 

Atheism,  20,  37,  61,  88,  105,  146, 
157-8,  160,  171,  203,  331,  340,  445, 
492,  507 ; a permissible  sense  of 
“God,”  172. 

Atkinson,  Mabel,  504. 

Aurelius,  Marcus,  173. 

Austria-Hungary,  459. 

Avenarius,  496. 

Awxentieff,  N.,  249,  354,  504. 

Bab,  Julius,  475. 

Bach,  485. 

Backward  races,  utilization  of,  146, 
471. 

Bacon,  492. 

Bad  conscience,  116,  120,  225,  274- 
282,  507. 

Bahnsen,  Julius,  178,  498. 

Balfour,  A.  J.,  309,  521. 

Balzac,  400. 

Bancroft,  George,  466. 

Barbarism  (or  harbarians) , hate 
for,  104;  dams  against,  137;  war 
a return  to,  142;  price  for  ceasing 
to  be,  144;  barbarians  “from 
above,”  413,  462. 

Bauer,  Henry,  479. 


^28 


INDEX 


Payne,  Peter,  505. 

Beethoven,  83,  370,  411  (457),  491, 
508,  516,  517. 

B^lart,  Hans,  509. 

Benn,  A.  W.,  304,  494,  501, 

511. 

Bentham,  348,  490. 

Bergaigne,  Abel,  255. 

Bergson,  499. 

Berkeley,  483. 

Bernoulli,  C.  A.,  487. 

Berthelot,  Ren§,  13,  368,  477,  496, 
502,  515,  517,  525. 

Beyer,  Richard,  14,  476,  508. 
Bismarck,  88,  314,  357,  398,  400, 
464,  465,  466,  471,  475,  518. 
Blake,  William,  503. 

Blanqui,  178. 

“Blond  beast,”  3,  280,  281,  367-8, 
405,  466,  515. 

Bohler,  114. 

Bohme,  Jacob,  503. 

Borgia,  Caesar,  400. 

Bosanquet,  Bernard,  519. 

Bose,  meaning  of,  226-8,  516. 
Boscovitch,  183. 

Bradley,  F.  H.,  483,  517. 
Brahmanism  (or  Brahmans),  215, 
240,  375,  392,  519. 

Brahms,  86. 

Branch,  Anna  Hempstead,  244. 
Brandes,  Georg,  32,  245,  254,  264, 
402,  478,  521. 

Breysig,  Kurt,  327,  477,  524. 
Browning,  Robert,  389,  516. 

Brutus,  33,  393. 

Buckle,  450. 

Buddhism  (or  Buddhists),  89,  90, 
108,  206,  279,  338,  361. 

Burbank,  Luther,  495. 

Burckhardt,  Jacob,  11,  26,  34,  40, 
99,  406,  457,  477,  480. 

Burgess,  .John  W.,  466. 

Burke,  Edmund,  312. 

Butler,  Bishop,  176. 

Byron,  386. 


Cabot,  J.  E.,  484. 

Caesar,  Julius,  369,  371,  372,  387, 
393,  400,  517,  518. 

“ Callicles”  (in  Plato’s  “Gorgias”), 
125,  505,  514. 

Cantor,  494. 

Caracalla,  377. 

Carlyle,  6,  39,  235,  288,  347,  399, 
520. 

Carlyle,  Mrs.,  453. 

Carnot,  491. 

Carolsfeld,  Schnorr  von,  519. 

Carr,  H.  Wildon,  494. 

Carus,  Paul,  vi,  12,  351,  374,  510. 

Caspar!,  O.,  177. 

Castromediano,  Sigismondo,  517. 

Catholic  Church,  restraining  influ- 
ence of  on  greed  before  the 
Reformation,  74;  suggestiveneSs 
of  as  a super-national  power,  145;' 
intolerance  of  helped  to  make  the 
European  mind  fine  and  supple, 
230;  its  way  of  bettering  Ger- 
man nobles  in  the  Middle  Ages, 
280;  Vornehmheit  of  the  higher 
clergy,  372;  the  church  in  one 
way  a higher  order  of  institu- 
tion than  the  state,  372,  414  (cf. 
429). 

Causality,  57,  110,  188,  197,  262, 
483,  488,  494. 

Cervantes,  10. 

Chamberlain,  Houston  Stewart,  471, 
475. 

Chamfort,  98,  490,  491. 

Chance  (or  accident)  opposed  to 
design,  not  to  causation,  106,  159, 
166-7,  500;  Nietzsche’s  practical 
attitude  to,  161-2,  404,  408,  488. 

Chaotic  side  of  the  world,  106,  153, 
159,  160,  446. 

Chatterton-Hill,  Georges,  vi,  12,  303, 
377,  453,  494. 

Christian  Morality,  questioned,  2; 
its  seductive  influence  on  thinkers, 
23,  207 ; does  not  include  hon- 


INDEX 


529 


esty  with  oneself,  330;  is  social 
morality  par  excellence,  325;  an 
assertion  of  the  interests  of  the 
mass  against  superior  classes, 
344;  here  the  secret  of  Nietzsche’s 
antagonism  to,  344,  509. 

Christianity,  how  it  became  “ an 
historical  power,”  60;  now  pass- 
ing into  a gentle  moralism,  105; 
like  socialism  in  ignoring  indi- 
vidual differences,  139;  necessary 
to  most  in  Europe  now,  186;  hose 
to  the  old  world,  227 ; its  attitude 
to  pain,  236;  spiritualizing  of 
cruelty,  239;  supplanting  of  the 
old  master-morality  by  a slave- 
morality,  258-260,  436;  sense  in 
which  it  is  a redemptive  religion, 
284;  what  its  spiritual  men  have 
done  for  Europe,  304;  its  use  of 
the  idea  of  selection,  307;  makes 
it  impossible  to  sacrifice  men, 
309;  a typical  way  of  thinking 
for  a suffering  species  of  men, 
348;  its  God  a very  wise  being 
excogitated  without  moral  preju- 
dice, 504;  Nietzsche  has  had  noth- 
ing unpleasant  from,  484;  wishes 
to  give  it  a bad  conscience  so  far 
as  it  teaches  anti-natural  ideas, 
275,  282;  his  object  not  to  an- 
nihilate the  Christan  ideal,  but  to 
put  an  end  to  its  tyranny,  453; 
valuable  to  the  fioek,  but  harmful 
to  higher  men,  453;  how  Conte 
has  outchristianed  it,  508. 

Cicero,  387. 

Commercialism,  2,  74-5,  132,  465. 

Common,  Thomas,  vi,  18,  28,  171, 
415,  510. 

Comte,  195,  340,  431,  508. 

Consciousness,  not  the  core  of  our 
being,  108,  196,  200,  345,  352, 
488,  498. 

Conservatism,  Nietzsche’s  essential, 
32,  118,  402-3. 


Copernicus,  183. 

Courtney,  W.  L.,  480. 

Crauford,  Oswald,  514. 

Creative  power,  man’s,  129-130,  153, 
218,  336,  341,  371-2. 

Crime,  117-8,  245,  376,  393,  439, 
516. 

Crispi,  468. 

Cruelty,  psychology  of,  238-240; 
legitimacy  of  on  occasion,  240-1; 
cruelty  in  conscience,  240,  277-8; 
“cruelty  of  nature,”  356  (437). 

Culture  (in  the  general  sense),  32, 
65,  72,  388,  468;  a new,  30,  58, 
83,  88,  125,  292,  397. 

Curtius,  256. 

Dante,  105,  173,  237. 

Darwinism,  mixed  attitude  to,  2, 
310,  401-2,  510;  the  struggle  for 
existence,  37,  479;  progress  in  the 
past  through  greater  advantages 
accruing  to  variations,  64;  no 
progress  but  by  variation  and 
selection,  but  we  must  do  the 
selecting,  389;  Darwinian  over- 
valuation of  outer  conditions,  198, 
355,  and  neglect  of  the  fact  that 
the  weak  may  by  combination  be- 
come masters  of  the  strong,  437 
(cf.  514)  ; a testing  of  Darwin’s 
ideas  by  experiments  extending 
over  centuries,  404;  the  utility  of 
an  organ  does  not  explain  its 
rise,  499;  early  suggestion  of  the 
possibility  of  an  ethics  on  Dar- 
winian lines,  513. 

Death,  free,  118,  301,  312,  429. 

Decadence  (or  degeneration),  16, 
198,  308-9,  374,  377,  390,  408,  417, 
423,  433,  444,  508,  521. 

Democracy,  64,  135-8,  369,  417-8, 
434,  441,  472,  507,  518,  521. 

Democritus,  481. 

Demosthenes,  60. 

Demuth,  P.  M.,  477. 


530 


INDEX 


Descartes,  230,  475. 

Determinism,  115,  175-6.' 

Deussen,  Paul,  7,  476. 

Dewey,  John,  225,  375,  507. 

Dewey  and  Tufts,  214,  218,  223, 
255,  256,  269,  271,  502,  505,  509. 

Dickinson,  G.  Lowes,  515. 

Diogenes  Laertius,  5. 

Disraeli,  475. 

Dolson,  Grace  N.,  vi,  163,  205,  347, 
364,  445,  447,  448,  463,  510,  511, 
512,  522. 

Dorner,  August,  373,  408,  438,  444, 
445,  475,  479,  494,  497,  499,  512, 
522. 

Dostoiewsky,  516. 

Dreams  as  interpretation  of  bodily 
states,  488. 

Drews,  Arthur,  85,  86,  88,  90,  101, 
169,  178,  350,  485,  487,  494. 

Diihring,  Eugen,  271. 

Duty  and  duties,  66,  265-9,  436,  506, 
516. 

Eckhard,  Meister,  238. 

Education,  74,  97,  120,  404,  442,  483, 
485,  487,  489,  512. 

Eggenschwyler,  W.,  496. 

Egoism,  ordinary,  67,  293,  388,  519; 
implied  by  altruism,  293,  309; 
tbe  higher,  126,  294,  430,  508, 
522;  the  principle  for  judging, 
347 ; misleading  as  a term  for 
Nietzsche’s  doctrine,  378. 

Eisler,  Rudolph,  477,  498. 

Eliot,  George,  19,  155,  385. 

Ellis,  Havelock,  65,  475,  476. 

Emerson,  20,  72,  202,  228,  275,  310, 
357,  366,  368,  392,  395,  402,  427, 
472,  477,  489,  501,  513,  517,  520. 

Empedocles,  33. 

Encyclopedia  Britannica  (9th  ed.), 
art.  “ Wagner,”  87,  art.  “ Diony- 
sus,” 480;  (10th  ed.),  art.  “ Nietz- 
sche,” 302,  457,  475,  515;  art. 
“ Ethics,”  510,  515. 


English,  the,  appreciation  of  in  sec- 
ond period,  98,  467 ; English 
psychologists  honored,  239;  “ mod- 
ern ” ideas  of  English  origin,  419, 
462;  British  Empire,  459;  in  gen- 
eral, 467-8. 

Epicurus,  33,  112. 

Equality,  288-291,  390,  425. 

Eternal  recurrence,  current  belittle- 
ment  of  the  idea,  163;  theoretic 
basis  of,  164-9;  depressing  effect 
of  on  Nietzsche,  169;  how  this 
was  counteracted,  170;  ethical 
problem  ensuing,  171;  a kind  of 
theodicy,  172-3;  fortifying  effect 
of  the  doctrine,  174;  reconcilia- 
tion with  freedom,  175;  a prob- 
ablity  simply,  176;  was  Nietzsche 
the  first  to  teach  it?,  177-9;  its 
probable  reception,  179;  a quasi- 
religion to  Nietzsche,  180. 

Eucken,  Rudolph,  34. 

Euripides,  58,  481. 

Europe,  a united,  v,  32,  143-5,  465, 
470,  525. 

Everett,  C.  C.,  515,  521. 

Every  man,  value  of,  65,  117,  126, 
381,  439,  446. 

Ewald,  O.,  494,  510. 

Explanation,  contrasted  with  de- 
scription, 110,  184,  188,  488. 

Ezekiel,  284. 

Faguet,  Simile,  370,  445,  453,  456, 
504,  522,  524. 

Fichte,  47,  465,  516. 

Finite,  the  world,  160-1,  164  £f.,  514. 

Fiske,  John,  40,  355. 

Flaubert,  19,  355,  499. 

Flemming  Siegbert,  477. 

Fontenelle,  98,  490. 

Force,  183,  190,  196. 

Forgetfulness,  role  of  in  morality, 
123,  490. 

Forster-Nietzsche,  Frau  Elisabeth, 
5,  7,  20,  28,  67,  83,  84,  88,  149, 


INDEX 


£31 


160,  176,  303,  404,  476,  491,  501, 
513. 

Fouill4e,  A.,  177,  178,  491,  494,  499, 
500,  514. 

Fowler,  W.  Wade,  383. 

Franco-Prussian  War,  Nietzsche’s 
part  in,  5,  6,  76;  after-effects  of 
in  Germany,  35,  74;  proved  noth- 
ing in  favor  of  German  culture, 
468. 

Fredrick  II  (Hohenstaufen),  400. 

Freedom,  a privilege  and  obligation, 
66,  387 ; “ modern  ” ideas  of,  418- 
9,  422. 

Free-thinking,  advantage  in,  146, 
332 ; distinguished  from  “ free- 
thought,”  146;  “free-thinkers” 
levellers,  460. 

Free-will,  illusory,  55,  113,  115,  319; 
causality  and,  175,  494;  a per- 
missible sense  of,  374. 

French,  the,  appreciation  of  in  sec- 
ond period,  98;  their  “old  varied 
moralistic  culture,”  211;  Mon- 
taigne et  al.  compared  with  Ger- 
man philosophers,  490;  the  best 
soldiers  and  first  victims  of 
“modern”  ideas,  419  (468);  in 
general,  468. 

French  Revolution,  the  18th  century 
Aufklarung  took  a violent  turn 
with,  135,  141,  402;  the  noblest 
spirits  (except  Goethe)  led  astray 
by,  288;  un-German,  superficial 
philosophy  of,  491;  made  Napo- 
leon and  Beethoven  possible,  410, 
457 ; mistaken  conduct  of  aristoc- 
racy at  outbreak  of,  433 ; the  last 
great  “ slave-insurrection,”  442 ; 
would  not  have  had  the  same 
seduction,  but  for  Chamfort,  491. 

Galiani,  Abb4,  230,  392. 

Galsworthy,  John,  305. 

Gambetta,  475. 

Gardiner,  A.  G.,  478. 


Garibaldi,  475. 

Gast,  Peter,  24. 

Gentleman,  the,  395-6,  517. 

Germany  (or  the  Germans),  criti- 
cism of,  2,  3,  22,  24,  -35,  74,  154, 
357,  370,  376,  395,  475;  no  German 
culture  proper,  63,  464 ; “ to  be  a 
good  German  is  to  un-Germanize 
oneself,”  144;  the  specious  culture 
represented  by  Strauss,  67 ; Nietz- 
sche loyal  to  his  fatherland, '76, 
458,  525;  Germans  lacking  politi- 
cal instincts,  141  (cf.  468)  ; how 
they  had  to  be  trained  to  moral- 
ity, 263;  pessimism  among  them, 
302;  have  reached  a high-water 
mark  of  the  historical  sense,  464; 
German  philology  and  the  German 
military  system  ahead  of  any- 
thing in  Europe,  466;  their 
“ Bedientenseele,”  464,  471;  lack 
psychological  fineness,  464,  475; 
naturally  serious,  466;  defeated 
possibility  of  a united  Europe 
under  Napoleon,  465 ; “ Deutsch- 
land, Deutschland  iiher  Alles,” 
465,  466;  nationalism  and  racial 
self-admiration,  471;  possibility 
of  leading  Europe  at  time  of 
Franco-Prussian  War,  465;  Ger- 
man music  reflecting  the  demo- 
cratic spirit,  491;  in  general, 
463-7. 

Gersdorff,  von,  83. 

Giovanitti,  Arthur,  507. 

Gistrow,  491. 

Goebel,  H.  and  E.  Antrim,  511. 

Goethe,  7,  22,  32,  33,  39,  59,  68,  69, 
74,  82,  104,  202,  231,  288,  339, 
340,  370,  394,  398,  400,  415,  450, 
452,  463,  464,  486,  491,  508,  512. 

Gogol,  386. 

“ Golden  Rule,”  the,  298. 

Good,  evil  passing  into,  119,  229- 
234,  244;  good  and  evil  impulses 
not  different  in  kind,  118;  par- 


532 


INDEX 


ticular  senses  of  “ good  ” and 
“evil,”  124,  247-257;  “beyond 
good  and  evil,”  1,  3,  260. 

Gorky,  Maxim,  517. 

Graham,  Stephen,  475. 

Grande  Encyclopidie,  art.  “ Nietz- 
sche,” 508,  515,  525. 

Granger,  Frank,  517. 

Great  men,  fearful  side  of,  234-6, 
393,  523. 

Greece  (or  the  Greeks),  judgment 
on  old  age,  32;  somber  undertone 
of,  40,  101;  how  saved  from  pes- 
simism, 39-44;  view  of  pity,  305; 
origin  of  current  impression  of 
“Greek  cheerfulness,”  480;  inter- 
esting because  having  so  many 
great  individuals,  65,  409,  431; 
shameless  readiness  of  nobles  to 
break  their  word,  329 ; aristocra- 
cies “lived  better”  than  we,  406; 
tendencies  to  a “ slave-morality,” 
505-6;  state  not  a regulator  of 
culture,  hut  a muscular  helper  or 
escort,  77 ; great  epoch  from 
Hesiod  to  .^schylus,  480  (cf.  383, 
387,  390)  ; emulative  spirit,  247 
(432)  ; a synthesis  of  Oriental 
elements  and  beginning  of  the 
European  soul,  460. 

Green,  Thomas  Hill,  384. 

Grote,  George,  505. 

Grutzmacher,  R.  H.,  445,  475,  476, 
512. 

Guyau,  178,  198,  500. 

Haldane,  R.  B.,  466. 

Halevy,  D.,  26,  296,  453,  477,  523. 

Hamblen,  Emily  S.,  vi,  478,  513. 

Hardness,  16,  71,  73,  153,  310,  413, 
490. 

Hardy,  Thomas,  131. 

Harvard  Oraduaies’  Magazine,  vi. 

Hegel,  51,  59,  157,  205,  223,  372, 
391,  464,  483,  492,  497. 

Heine,  178,  400. 


Helmholtz,  176,  483. 

Helvetius,  348,  369,  490. 

Henry  IV  (of  France),  525. 

Heraclitus,  33,  47-8,  177,  365,  379, 
383,  415,  479,  493,  514. 

Herder,  51,  398. 

Hesiod,  480. 

Hibben,  J.  G.,  302,  358. 

Higher  individuals,  the  raison 
d’etre  of  society,  63-6,  128,  307, 
359,  388,  390,  430,  431-3,  438,  443, 
445,  452;  how  society  tends  to 
train  them,  221-3,  384. 

Hohbes,  492. 

Hobhouse,  L.  T.,  492. 

Hoffding,  Harald,  13,  32,  305,  445, 
475,  505,  522,  523. 

Holderlin,  178. 

Hollitscher,  J.  J.,  364. 

Homberger,  398. 

Homer,  34,  102,  349,  481,  602. 

Hope,  Nietzsche’s  mood  of,  32,  416. 

Horneffer,  August,  486,  501. 

Horneffer,  Ernst,  475,  501,  512. 

Humboldt,  von,  W.,  157. 

Hume,  Bennett,  514. 

Hume,  David,  492,  495. 

Huxley,  98,  131. 

Identity,  117,  167,  186,  495. 

Illusionism,  50,  110-1,  182-5;  will  to 
illusion  deeper  than  that  to  truth, 
482. 

“ Immoralist,”  210-3,  416. 

Individualism,  351-2,  378-9,  420, 
512. 

Industry,  great  men  of,  134,  491; 
the  present  industrial  culture  the 
lowest  form  of  existence  that  hae 
ever  been,  491. 

Innocent  III,  276. 

“Instinct,  everything  good  is”  (noi 
“every  instinct  is  good”),  353 

Intellect,  the,  original  practical  pur 
pose  of,  52;  theoretic  use  of,  55 
Chap.  XV  passim. 


INDEX 


533 


“ Intuition,”  316. 

Isaiah,  28,  258,  311. 

Israel,  ancient,  rise  of  “ slave-moral- 
ity” in,  257-260;  religious  ideal- 
ism of,  488. 

Italy,  468-9. 

James,  the  elder  Henry,  449. 

James,  William,  55,  240,  355,  482, 
483,  496,  501,  503,  513,  521. 

Jerusalem,  W.,  496. 

Jesuitism  (or  Jesuits),  33,  519. 

Jesus,  33,  117,  118,  195,  227,  342, 
395,  508,  511. 

Jews,  the,  471,  507. 

Joel,  Karl,  227,  475,  477,  478,  480, 
503. 

Jowett,  B.,  505. 

Justice,  66,  269-271,  329,  511;  con- 
trasted with  revenge,  271-3;  self- 
transcendence  of  in  grace,  273. 

Kaftan,  Julius,  475. 

Kant,  4,  14,  24,  33,  37,  45,  58,  71,  78, 
111,  115,  123,  129,  154,  157,  189, 

190,  205,  207,  287,  314,  323,  383, 

447,  464,  488,  490,  492,  495,  497, 

500,  501,  504,  506,  508. 

Kerler,  Dietrich  H.,  489. 

Keyser,  C.  J.,  482. 

Kleist,  Heinrich  von,  46,  386. 

Kulpe,  0.,  350,  477,  494,  498. 

La  Bruyfere,  98,  490. 

Laehmann,  Benedict,  512. 

Laisser-faire,  32,  74,  334,  374,  418, 
420,  440,  459,  521. 

Lalande,  A.,  499. 

Landor,  W.  S.,  477. 

Lange,  F.  A.,  33,  49,  483,  497. 

Language,  an  international,  145, 
473. 

Lanzky,  Paul,  477. 

La  Rochefoucauld,  98,  119,  490. 

Lassalle,  475. 

Lasserre,  195. 


Laughter,  11,  394-5,  480,  493. 
Lazarus,  214. 

LeBon,  Gustav,  178. 

Lee,  Vernon,  510. 

Leibnitz,  230,  464. 

Leopardi,  68,  386,  477. 

Levy,  A.,  512. 

Levy,  Oscar,  vii. 

Libertinism,  374,  423;  of  the  intel- 
lect, 16,  320,  374,  376. 
Lichtenberger,  Henri,  vi,  150,  475, 
479,  486,  521. 

Liebmann,  0.,  501. 

Life,  the  immoral  foundations  of, 
37-8,  48,  157,  198,  292,  434. 
Literary  class,  the  German,  repul- 
sive to  Nietzsche,  525. 

Lob,  Walther,  493. 

Lobeck,  C.  A.,  477. 

Locke,  492. 

Lory,  Carl,  492,  509,  512. 

Lotze,  501. 

Love,  68,  126,  153,  296-8,  329,  348, 
407. 

Lowell,  James  Russell,  420. 

Loyalty,  94,  329. 

Lucretius,  40. 

Ludovici,  A.  M.,  vi. 

Luther,  157,  463,  518. 

Mach,  E.,  496. 

Machiavellism,  456. 

Machinery,  133,  440,  484. 

Maciver,  R.  M.,  525. 

MacVeagh,  Wayne,  518. 

Manu,  Laws  of,  286,  427,  519. 
Marriage,  7,  244,  269,  311,  407,  422- 
3,  459,  518,  525. 

Martin,  Mrs.  John,  309. 

Mason,  D.  G.,  516. 

“ Master-morality  ” and  “ slave- 
morality,”  124,  248-260,  362-3, 
390-1,  461,  504,  505,  522. 
Materialism,  rejected  by  Nietzsche, 
45,  110. 

Mazzini,  235,  475,  525. 


534 


INDEX 


Mechanical  view,  the,  159,  183-4, 
196,  499. 

Medici,  Lorenzo  de’,  370. 

Mencken,  Henry  L.,  170,  351,  476. 

M^rim^e,  Prosper,  100,  477. 

Meyer,  R.  M.,  11,  30,  51,  67,  150, 
178,  254,  340,  350,  398,  475,  476, 

477,  479,  481,  488,  490,  492,  494, 

497,  509,  512,  515,  518,  520,  521, 

525. 

Meysenbug,  Malwida  von,  7,  83,  480. 

Mexico,  567. 

Middle  Ages — alcoholic  poisoning  of 
Europe,  109. 

Mill,  John  Stuart,  271,  440. 

Mirabeau,  33,  252. 

Mobius,  P.  J.,  20,  37,  163,  476,  477. 

Modernity,  59,  204,  422. 

Mohammed,  33,  154,  288,  409. 

Mommsen,  398. 

Montaigne,  33,  98,  230,  405,  490, 
504. 

Montgomery,  Edmund,  488,  511. 

Montlosier,  de,  521. 

Moore,  A.  W.,  496. 

Moore,  G.  E.,  467. 

“ M or alin,”  325. 

Moral  order,  idea  of  a,  283-6,  507. 

Morality,  idealistic  meaning  of,  59, 
206,  355,  378;  freedom  vital  to, 
70;  shaping  influence  of  physio- 
logical conditions  upon,  109; 
critically  considered,  115-124  (in 
detail,  Chaps.  XVII-XXIII,  net 
results  of  the  crftici^m,*§f2-331 ) ; 
social  utility  the  basis  of,  121-3; 
constant  elements  in,  121,  217; 
law  of  social  groups,  213-7,  380-1; 
necessity  and  gravity  of,  217-8; 
confined  to  social  groups,  219-221, 
455-6;  the  present  chaos  in,  203- 
4 ; how  a problem,  208,  though 
one  for  few,  208-9;  varying  types 
of — of  peoples,  247,  the  priestly 
class,  248,  the  master  and  slave 
classes,  249-254;  philological  con- 


^"^firmation  of  the  view  of  a master- 
morality,  254-6;  development  of 
a slave-morality  in  ancient  Israel 
and  under  Christianity,  257-260; 
type  of  morality  proposed  by 

[ Nietzsche,  Chaps.  XXIV,  XXV. 

More,  Paul  Elmer,  vi,  203,  485,  508. 

Morison,  J.  Cotter,  489. 

Moses,  33. 

Motley,  J.  L.,  466. 

Mozart,  93. 

Miigge,  M.  A.,  195,  479,  492. 

Muller,  P.  E.,  505. 

Miiller-Frienfels,  Richard,  496. 

Music,  peculiar  nature  of,  78-9,  87; 
romantic  music  turned  from  in 
second  period,  102,  487 ; value  of 
music  independent  of  our  enjoy- 
ment of  it,  352  (ef.  450) ; influ- 
ence of  democracy  on,  491. 

Musset,  Alfred  de,  386. 

Nageli,  von,  178. 

Napoleon,  234,  245,  275,  369,  377, 
400,  409,  410,  448,  463. 

'Nation,  The  (New  York),  305,  374. 

Nationalism  modern,  vi,  1,  32,  74, 
85,  143-5,  405,  465,  518. 

“Natural  laws,”  56,  106,  159,  184. 

Nature,  no  ideal,  355;  not  a return, 
but  a “coming  up”  to,  463  (cf. 
515). 

Neighbors,  lov'e  of,  300. 

Nero,  377. 

Newman,  John  Henry,  16,  31,  323, 
477,  482,  504. 

Niebuhr,  77,  518. 

Nordau,  Max,  5. 

“ Nothing  is  true,  everything  is 
permitted,”  19*,  320,  336,  374. 

Oehler,  Richard,  512. 

Opera,  Nietzsche’s  detestation  of  or- 
dinary, 80,  87. 

Orage,  A.  R.,  322. 

Orestano,  Fr.,  456. 


INDEX 


535 


Organ,  198. 

“ Organic,”  meaning  of,  451. 

Ostwald,  W.,  516. 

Ought,  116,  286-8,  345,  507. 

Overbeck,  Franz,  11. 

Palestrina,  105. 

Paneth,  492. 

Pascal,  33,  36,  100,  230,  281,  319. 

Panpsychism,  an  early  species  of,  57. 

Pater,  Walter,  480. 

Paul,  Jean,  398. 

Pearson,  Karl,  379. 

Peasants,  436,  518;  peasant  blood 
the  best  in  Germany,  405,  434 
(467,  518). 

Peck,  H.  T.,  514. 

Pericles,  518. 

Perry,  Ralph  Barton,  376,  495. 

Personalism,  as  a title  for  Nietz- 
sche’s ethical  doctrine,  378-9,  523. 

“Persons”  (sovereign,  self-legislat- 
ing individuals),  222-3,  265,  379, 
Chap.  XXVI,  411,  430,  512,  520. 

Pessimism  (and  optimism),  31,  40, 
103,  108,  156-9,  492-3. 

Phenomenalism,  50,  111. 

Phidias,  292,  520. 

Philetas,  520. 

Philosophy,  meaning  of,  36,  479;  in- 
fluence of  physiological  states 
upon,  109;  more  than  science  and 
criticism,  151-3;  a sublimated 
form  of  will  to  power,  195,  201, 
371  (cf.  394),  522;  every  great 
philosophy  a sort  of  involuntary 
memoires,  336. 

Physiological  view  of  man,  108,  345. 

Pindar.  40,  82. 

Pity,  301-313,  424,  508. 

Plato,  33,  77,  104,  118,  154,  202, 
212,  271,  314,  329,  341,  365,  383, 
387,  425,  429,  481,  482,  489,  505, 
514. 

Pleasure  and  pain,  158,  201,  347-8, 
499-500,  511. 


Plutarch,  211,  520. 

Poe,  386. 

Poles,  the,  24,  525. 

Polyclet,  520. 

Polytheism,  moral  significance  of, 
396-7. 

Positivism,  98,  151-2. 

Practical  need  determining  beliefs, 
52-5,  113-4,  185-7,  190. 

Pragmatism,  267,  496. 

Pringle-Pattison,  A.  S.,  24,  163,  353, 
354,  515. 

Progress,  417,  460. 

Protestantism,  the  most  impure 
type  of  Christianity  that  exists, 
464. 

Punishment,  117-8,  267,  299,  424, 
489,  515. 

Pythagoreanism,  40,  163,  178,  487. 

Rangordnung,  idea  of  a,  200,  287, 
338,  366,  379,  410,  425,  459,  519. 

Raphael,  59,  80,  105,  487., 

Rathenau,  Walter,  524. 

Realism,  Nietzsche’s  fimdamental, 
57,  111-2,  189,  191-3. 

R4e,  Paul,  100,  216,  324,  476,  486, 
505. 

Reformation,  the  German,  74, 
419. 

Religion,  105,  147,  429,  453,  488  r 
Nietzsche’s  essential  religiousness,, 
12,  331,  340-2;  eternal  recurrence 
as  a,  174,  180. 

Renaissance,  the,  435,  464,  488. 

Renouvier,  501. 

Responsibility,  in  one  sense,  denied, 
116,  261;  in  another  afllrmed, 
261-5. 

Richter,  Raoul,  vi,  9,  14,  81,  85,  148, 

176,  195,  354,  366,  402,  461,  475, 

478,  483,  485,  486,  487,  489,  494, 

497,  498,  504,  510,  512,  513,  514, 

521,  522. 

Riehl,  Alois,  8,  18,  99,  102,  104,  112, 
129,  151,  163,  170,  226,  232,  236, 


536 


INDEX 


339,  368,  476,  487,  489,  492,  495, 
498,  501,  504,  505,  512,  513,  515. 

Riemann,  176. 

Rights,  62,  219,  265,-9,  391,  408, 
506. 

Ritschl,  F.  W.,  4. 

Rittelmeyer,  Friedrich,  25,  176,  404, 
477,  483,  494,  508. 

Rogers,  A.  K.,  477. 

Rohde,  Erwin,  27,  43,  478,  480,  485, 
4^7. 

Romans,  the,  146,  215,  216,  255,  258, 
266,  383,  387,  409,  422,  425,  465, 

Romanticism  (or  romanticists),  92, 
99,  150,  152,  161,  210,  492,  504. 

Rousseau,  33,  69,  205,  447,  463,  490, 
508. 

Russia,  varying  views  about,  469- 
470. 

Sacrifice,  20,  119,  122,  127,  200,  216, 
282,  291,  299,  300-1,  309-10,  347, 

349,  391,  401,  434. 

Saint,  the,  62,  69,  195,  201,  393, 

500. 

Saintsbury,  George,  15,  178,  475, 

477. 

Salome,  Lou  Andreas-,  91,  156,  169, 
194,  341,  476,  478,  479,  486,  494, 
503,  504,  505,  512. 

Salter,  W.  M.,  vi,  55,  479,  481,  525, 

Samuel,  First  Book  of,  506. 

Scharren,  Heinrich,  512. 

Scheffauer,  H.,  508. 

Schelling,  157. 

Schellwien,  Robert,  512. 

Schiller,  80,  157,  483. 

Schiller,  F.  C.  S.,  513,  514. 

Schleiermacher,  23,  157,  508. 

Schmidt,  Leopold,  255,  505. 

Schmitz-Dumont,  177. 

Schopenhauer,  3,  5,  8,  12,  14,  25,  31, 
33,  37,  38,  39,  45,  46,  48,  49,  58, 
64,  67,  69,  71,  78,  81,  82,  88,  100, 
110,  115,  119,  129,  1.30,  15.3,  154, 
L57,  173,  189,  190,  195,  196,  205, 


207,  208,  236,  275,  276,  279,  284, 
288,  292,  302,  303,  315,  323,  324, 
346,  353,  355,  361,  381,  400,  434, 
464,  471,  475,  482,  483,  488,  490, 
498,  499,  501,  603,  504,  508. 

Schumann,  485. 

Schure,  Edouard,  476,  486. 

Science,  wisdom  instead  of  the  goal 
in  first  period,  58;  high  place 
given  to  in  second  period,  98,  100, 
101,  104,  316,  489;  science  and 
the  ideal  the  note  of  the  third 
period,  155;  praise  for  strictness 
and  severity  of,  96,  316;  a human- 
izing of  things,  110;  came  into 
the  world  like  a smuggler,  120, 
486;  day  of  to  come,  146;  cannot 
be  independent  of  philosophy, 
151;  preliminary  work  for  a sci- 
ence of  ethics,  246;  possibility  of 
a properly  scientific  ethics,  361-2, 
402;  cannot  answer  the  problem 
of  its  own  value,  318;  no  pre- 
suppositionless science,  318;  does 
not  fix  the  ethical  ideal,  335; 
every  one  should  master  at  least 
one  science  to  know  what  scien- 
tific method  means,  486;  Nietzsche 
never  a master  in  any  science 
himself,  98,  176-7,  486;  attitude 
to  scientific  specialism,  2,  36,  65, 
152,  195,  428. 

Scott,  Walter,  465. 

Secrftan,  Charles,  501. 

Seeley,  J.  R.,  449,  516. 

Self-control,  125,  373-4,  387,  394, 
432. 

Self-training  of  higher  men,  the, 
412-3. 

Selfishness,  70-1,  295-6,  351,  372, 
390,  484. 

Seydlitz,  von,  25,  476,  478. 

Shaw,  Bernard,  3,  68,  70,  398,  405. 

Shelley,  19. 

Sickness  and  suffering,  utility  of, 
237-8. 


INDEX 


537 


Simmel,  Georg,  205,  259,  303,  351, 
353,  359,  365,  378,  379,  400,  430, 
452,  490,  494,  496,  501,  510,  511, 
512,  523. 

Simonides,  40. 

Slavery,  a basis  of  culture,  32,  38, 
72-3,  130,  292,  480;  broad  use  of 
term  “slave,”  72,  127,  249-250, 
442-3,  451,  521;  how  emancipa- 
tion might  be  got,  135,  441. 

“ Slave-insurrection  in  morality,” 
257-260,  419,  442. 

Smith,  Norman  Kemp,  495. 

Smith,  William  Benjamin,  493. 

“ Social  dualism,”  the  charge  of,  444, 
454. 

Social  Museum  of  Harvard  Uni- 
versity, 457. 

Social  revolution,  a coming,  134, 
410,  421,  441,  461. 

Socialism  (or  Socialists),  2,  77, 
134-5,  138-141,  420,  461-3,  490, 
491,  507,  508,  519. 

Socrates,  58,  104,  118,  130,  207,  215, 
227,  243,  257,  329,  390,  431,  479, 
517. 

Solipsism,  57,  191. 

Sophists,  the  Greek,  350,  353,  512. 

Sophocles,  40,  79,  92,  284,  292,  502. 

Soul,  the,  107,  174,  488,  495,  497. 

Space  and  time,  early  view  of  as 
subjective,  46,  56;  time  later  held 
to  be  objective,  129,  164,  490. 

Spencer,  Herbert,  158,  198,  230,  233, 
335,  355,  441,  459,  491,  508. 

Spinoza,  33,  205,  236,  489. 

Springfield  Republican,  the,  73. 

Stael,  Madame  de,  492. 

State,  the,  origin  of  in  force,  76, 
242,  279,  455,  506,  522;  justifica- 
tion of,  76;  possible  disappear- 
ance of,  141;  enforces  justice,  set- 
ting limits  to  revenge,  272-3;  con- 
ceivably so  strong  that  it  might 
let  wrong-doers  go,  273;  so  far  as 
it  represents  an  independent  so- 


cial group,  super-moral,  and 
politics  Machiavellian,  455-6;  “as 
little  state  as  possible,”  459. 

Stein,  Ludwig,  479,  524. 

Stendhal,  275,  400,  409. 

Stewart,  Herbert  Leslie,  vi,  501, 
502. 

St.  Francis  of  Assisi,  259. 

Stirner,  Max,  351,  353,  459, 

512. 

St.  James,  Epistle  of,  284,  504. 

Stoics,  the,  177,  355,  494. 

St.  Paul,  227,  258,  284,  488,  508. 

St.  Peter,  227. 

Strauss,  D.  F.,  35,  45,  53,  67,  484, 
485. 

Substance,  185. 

Sumner,  W.  G.,  131,  133,  214,  224. 

Super,  C.  W.,  480. 

Superman,  the,  history  of  the  term, 
398;  Nietzsche’s  essential  mean- 
ing, 400;  relation  of  the  concept 
to  Darwinism,  401;  how  to  be  got, 
402;  slowness  of  real  social 
change,  402;  worth  of  turning 
thought  and  aspiration  that  way, 
403;  place  of  Zuchtung,  404;  how 
related  to  wealth,  405;  signifi- 
cance of  marriage,  407 ; educated 
by  opposition,  danger,  war,  409; 
self-training,  412;  Nietzsche’s 
challenge  to  scholars,  415;  mood 
of  hope,  416. 

Symonds,  J.  A.,  480,  481. 

Sympathy,  67,  126,  217,  302,  508, 
510. 

Taine,  H.  A.,  21,  26,  152,  499. 

Talmud,  the,  516. 

Tennyson,  99. 

Tertullian,  259. 

“ Theodicy,”  a Greek,  41 ; views  of 
Nietzsche  almost  a,  172-3,  233-4. 

Theognis,  5,  255,  518. 

Thierry,  Augustin,  521. 

Thilly,  Frank,  351,  368,  510,  515. 


538 


INDEX 


‘ Things-in-themselvea,”  current  mis- 
use of,  190. 

Thomson,  J.  A.,  408. 

Thomson,  Sir  William,  165. 

Thucydides,  289. 

Tienes,  G.  A.,  430,  512. 

Tintoretto,  481. 

Tolstoy,  75. 

Tonnies,  Ferdinand,  498. 

Toy,  C.  H.,  506. 

“ Transvaluation  of  values,”  3,  260. 

Treitschke,  von,  465,  475. 

Trendelenberg,  479. 

Trevelyan,  G.  M.,  517. 

Truth,  proposal  to  change  the 
meaning  of,  188,  320;  truth  and 
utility  distinguished,  52-5,  113-4, 
188;  is  there  an  unconditional 
obligation  to  speak  the  truth?, 
314,  or  to  know  it,  315-322. 

Tyndall,  98. 

Tyrrell,  Father,  323,  502. 

ITnegoistic  actions,  illusion  in  the 
idea  of,  119;  differing  senses  of 
“ unegoistie,”  282,  489. 

Universal  suffrage,  425,  442. 

Urban,  Wilbur  M.,  518. 

Utilitarianism  (or  Utilitarians), 
121-3,  205,  237,  253-4,  327,  346, 
348,  378,  467,  511,  523. 

Vaihinger,  Hans,  14,  303,  475,  494, 
496,  497. 

Values,  created  by  the  mind,  153, 
186,  218,  316,  321,  335,  510,  512. 

Vanity,  29,  124,  369,  490. 

Vauvenargues,  98,  490. 

Venice,  38.3,  392. 

Vice,  376,  423. 

Vinci,  Leonardo  da,  400. 

Virtues,  Nietzsche’s  four,  329;  vir- 
tue as  strength,  375. 

Volkelt,  J.,  276. 

Voltaire,  23,  99,  100,  158. 

Voluntarism,  pluralistic,  194,  498. 


Wagner,  Cosima,  7,  81,  89. 

Wagner,  Richard,  3,  5,  15,  25,  31,  34, 
35,  66,  68,  69,  70,  71,  78-91,  102, 
291,  314,  315,  319,  399,  400,  465, 
466,  475,  480,  485,  486,  487,  513. 

Wallace,  William,  302,  305,  475. 

War,  2,  75,  142-3,  410-1,  414,  510; 
the  Franco-Prussian  (see  under 
ibid.)  ; the  present  European 
war,  V,  3,  414,  459,  478;  war  be- 
tween ideas,  411,  461;  rules  of 
Nietzsche’s  “ war-practice,”  483-4; 
the  great  war  to  come,  2,  414, 
473. 

Warbeke,  J.  M.,  508,  514. 

Wealth,  131-2,  137,  388,  405-7,  418-9, 
455. 

Weber,  Ernst,  485. 

Weigand,  W.,  322,  506. 

Weinel,  Heinrich,  474,  477,  495,  506, 
507,  509,  515. 

Welcker,  67,  505. 

Westermarck,  505. 

Wilamowitz-Mollendorf,  von,  178, 

485. 

Will  to  believe,  95,  316. 

Will  to  power,  the  bottom  thing  in 
man  and  the  world,  192-201 ; 
more  than  an  impulse  for  self- 
preservation,  197,  350;  primarily 
a psychological  and  cosmological 
(not  ethical)  doctrine,  194,  354; 
details  of  the  view,  196-201;  re- 
lation of  to  the  moral  aim  pro- 
posed by  Nietzsche,  354-378;  how 
morality  comes  to  be  contrasted 
with,  363-4. 

William  11  (Hohenzollern),  467. 

Wilson,  Woodrow,  349. 

Winckelmann,  39. 

Windrath,  E.,  479. 

Wolf,  A.,  vi,  476. 

Wolf,  Friedrich  August,  479. 

Woman,  7,  24,  407,  408,  416,  468, 

486,  524. 

Wordsworth,  120,  287. 


INDEX 


539 


Working-class,  the,  308,  418,  428, 
439-444. 

World-organization  and  economy,  a, 
145-6,  404-5,  414,  470-3. 

Wright,  Willard  Huntington,  501. 
Wundt,  W.,  176,  214,  251,  255,  256, 
498,  501,  502,  505. 


Zarathustra,  33,  324. 

Ziegler,  Theobald,  20,  86,  99,  148, 
163,  434,  475,  477,  485,  487,  489, 
494,  501,  505,  512,  518. 

Zoccoli,  195. 

Zuchtung,  66,  179,  261,  375,  404, 
434. 


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